


Stronger Than Pride

by yunghime



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Demisexual Vegeta, F/M, Headcanon, The reason for Trunks' conception: Loneliness Passion and 90's RnB, Three years
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunghime/pseuds/yunghime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a forewarning of death and destruction in three years time, the Z fighters go off to train leaving Bulma on her own. She is forced to deal with the loneliness of being left behind and possibly a future that might never come with only the Prince of All Saiyans to keep her company. This loneliness sparks intrigue. Intrigue sparks passion. That passion to action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never As Good As The First Time

He quirked the corner of his lips upwards, skewing the scar on his cheek. He watch her silhouette squirm, hop and wiggle as she fought with her jeans from across the dark room. She was all beauty and no grace, at the moment. He sighed laying back, his hand stroking the spot beside him that she had warmed. His nose pressed into the pillow inhaling her sweet scent. He could still feel the soft caress of her lips all over his body. 

"Damned hips," she hissed through gritted teeth, drawing him out of his reverie. His gaze was drawn back to her still struggling with her jeans. 

"Why do you even wear those," Yamcha snorted as he watched her from where he lay on the bed.

"Because they make my ass look great," she turned around and gestured to her backside to prove her point.

"I'll give you that," he chuckled. A smirk formed on her pink lips and a playful roll of the eyes as she finally got in her jeans. "B, C'mere," Yamcha reached for her hand. 

"No, not again," she giggled, "I already have my pants back on."

"I just wanna talk," he pulled her closer to the bedside. 

"Yea? About what," an aqua brow rose as she sat on the edge of the bed. 

"About us." He felt her tense. He could see the purse of her lips and draw of her brows. She was thinking of a way to get out of this...again. 

"What is there to talk about?"

"I dunno. Whatever this is that we're doing. I mean you show up here, make love to me like never before then just leave. I'm starting to think you're just using me for my body," he smirked.

She cringed. Make love, is that what he thought they were doing? It had been a long time since they made love. The night he had been revived after the Saiyans came they didn't make love. What they've been doing for over a year wasn't making love. 

"Why do we have to talk about it? I didn't come here for that."

"Well what did you come here for, Bulma," he clenched his jaw and sat up straight.

"I came here to suck your dick. You knew that. I knew that. I did that. Now I'm not doing this with you. What the point?"

"The point is I want to know. I need to know." He ran a hand through his hair. He knew, but he didn't want to admit it. Not yet at least. He needed her presence in his life, especially with the looming threat that awaited them three years from now.

"I don't want to do this," she sighed.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to think about all the shit to come. I mean we don't even know if we'll be alive in less than three years from now, so why worry about little things and just enjoy the now." 

They possibly had less than 1,000 days to live. So much had changed in the short time leading up to this and so much more would. Some of those changes were a long time coming. Some she never wanted to acknowledge. She tried to chase away the thoughts when they haunted her late at night. Some changes were inevitable. She changed. He changed. They weren't the same people they were before. They weren't kids. Just like people grow and change, so do feelings.

"That's even more of a reason to Bulma," he sighed in frustration. He had been dropping hints about settling down since that "kid from the future" came a month or so ago and she would just wave it off as nothing.

"I'm not doing this," she stood to her feet. 

"We're not kids anymore, Bulma. I think it's time-"

"Yamcha, I just said I'm not doing this!

"You're just selfish," he glared at her as she rolled her eyes in defiance.

"Selfish people live longer," she crossed her arms and turned her back to him. Neverminding the rustling behind her that she knew was Yamcha jumping out of the bed and looking for clothing. 

"Bulma! Don't you walk out on this."

"Or what? Yamcha, don't play dumb. You know just like I know where this was heading."

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back here hoping to get a quick fuck."

She opened the door and turned back to him with a sharp glare, "You won't have to worry about me coming back here!" 

ｬ

Bulma climbed the makeshift scaffold she had forged in her teen years up to the rooftop of the west tower of Capsule Corporation. She settled on a seat on the ledge her legs dangling over the edge. This rooftop held many memories. More than often it was her solace. Her escape from annoying parents and boring high school classes. Looking up at the stars she once dreamed of traveling through. She brought the creation she rolled with her own fingers to her lips then brought the flame of her lighter to the tip. Taking a long drag on the first hit, she exhaled blowing some of her stress up into the air along with the smoke. She flipped the hood of her jacket up onto her head and shoved her free hand into her pocket. Positioning her earbuds into her ear with one hand, she took another hit with the other. Her shoulders relaxed with a sigh as she gazed down at West City from where she sat like a princess looking down upon her kingdom.

"That is not one of your filthy cigarettes." Her heart jumped and a wave of shock started at her toes and rolled up her body as a voice spoke from the shadows. 

"Damn it Vegeta," she shrieked pulling the joint from her lips with her index and thumb, "What is your deal!"

"Why are you here?"

"Why am I here? This is my house I can be wherever I want!"

His dark brows furrowed as he stared at her and as good as Bulma Briefs thought she was at reading people she couldn't for the life of her read his expression. "Why are you so loud," he turned and flew off the rooftop. 

"He's so weird," she groaned before taking another slow drag. Vegeta adjusting to his new stay on Earth had been an adventure in itself; between his culture shock and persistent temper tantrums, there was never a dull moment. There were so many things that she hadn't even thought of when she invited the Saiyan to stay. She just knew that it was better that he be close by where an eye could be kept on him, instead of him running free and causing chaos on Earth. It had been a trial to have to explain what shoe laces are and how to tie them to the easily irritable man. She never thought they'd have to teach an alien how to use a fork or chopsticks. There had even been times where she had completely forgotten that he wasn't even born on the same planet as her and each time she slipped into that false notion of thinking he never failed to remind her. He's just so weird...and interesting.

She lay back on the rooftop and looked up at the starry night sky before taking another hit momentarily forgetting about her alien houseguest. She wished for the days before three-year promises of death, before Goku was Kakkarot, and before Super Saiyans. Inhaling deeply, filling her lungs with smoke and exhaling making it dance in the air. Why couldn't they just listen to her? Why couldn't they just go find where these androids were, bust in there and blow them up before they even got around to their senseless killing spree. She was surrounded by muscle-bound, thrill-seeking idiots that's why.

"Don't listen to the genius, what a great idea," she sighed before lifting the joint to her lips again. Show-offy boys would be the end of the world. "No surprise there," she chuckled. Men ruined everything. Time and time again man's ego and overall stupidity caused wars, tragedy and ultimately deaths. As much as she didn't want to admit it a niggling of resentment had formed in her towards her friends. They all holed themselves away training to become stronger to defend the world from the androids and what was she left to do? They had left her behind, once again. This was becoming far too frequent for her liking. Bulma Briefs did not like being the outlier. She did not like being left out. She did not like this feeling of helplessness. Was she just suppose to sit back and leave everything to the boys? Was she just suppose to ignore it and leave it to them and act like she didn't notice?

No, Bulma notices everything but there are times when she acts like she doesn't; like Yamcha's wandering eyes and interest. Every since he had died and been revived he had grown complacent. Happy just to be alive and she honestly couldn't argue with that. Though they were already on one of their "off" phases, he was happy just to be with her as she was with him. He was happy just playing baseball in the day and warming her bed at night. He was happy for the team's winning streak and the flock of groupies to come with it. Happy for all the short skirts and phone numbers written on napkins. He never called them because he was happy enough with her but as happy as he was he wanted more. He didn't have an unfaithful bone in his body. He wanted what she couldn't give. 

When he wasn't "training", playing baseball or knocking her boots he was bitching and moaning about her choices. Her choice to not get back together officially. Her choice to house the murderous alien indirectly responsible for his death. To say that he was upset about the guest at Capsule Corp wouldn't even do it justice. She had never seen him so upset. He detested the Saiyan. He was jealous. She'd be a fool to think that he was jealous over her. She'd also be lying if she said that she hadn't daydreamed about Yamcha causing a scene and asking if she wanted him or Vegeta like something out of a movie her sister had to take her to because back then she wasn't old enough to get in herself. No, this jealousy had nothing to do with her and everything to do with power. Vegeta made it all look so easy. Power rolled off of him. His dark aura radiated power. Ever movement he made was presice and deliberate, strong and graceful. He was poetry in motion. He didn't even have to dirty his hands to kill Yamcha himself. That is what Yamcha was jealous of. He wanted to be stronger. She saw how he tried. He wanted to be stronger for her. She remember him holding her and telling her how he'd give his life for her if it meant she lived on pass the three-year death mark. An argument she had gotten into with her mother years ago when she first started dating Yamcha came to the forefront of her mind. Her mother had said she would hurt that poor boy and look what she had gone and done. 

She sighed and pressed the butt of her doobie in the rooftop. She'd have to change her clothes and shower or else her mother would pass out if she found out her precious Bulma was smoking marijuana around the house. Closing her eyes, she reasoned she'd call Yamcha up soon. Not to get back together. This would be the honest to Kami last time, but she still wanted him in her life. He had been there for so much of it, she couldn't see her life without him. She also reasoned that he had valid points like offering refuge to the homicidal alien that would've killed her if he had the chance. There was no way around that though part of her thought he wasn't that bad. 

"Shower and sleep now," she sighed, "call Yamcha in a week." All she could do was take these next few years one day at a time.


	2. What Have You Done For Me Lately

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!

At the press of a delicate finger hard drums and a kicking bass line came to life filling the room. Bulma stepped side to side and bounced her shoulders with the beat up to the full-length mirror on the wall. "I'm living the single," she spun around, "life." She pranced around the room feeling herself go back in time. Back before being single was the last thing she wanted to be. Back to the days when she was still trying to coerce Yamcha to go to third base. "And it feels so good!" She tossed her high ponytail of flowing curls side to side. She adjusted the teal and violet jewel encrusted bustier in the mirror. She blew a kiss to the hottie in the reflection before grabbing her clutch and bounding out the bedroom door.

Trotting down the stairs, she hummed the tune still playing in her head. Slipping into the kitchen, she danced passed the counter and winked at Vegeta. He sat perched upon the counter both legs crossed and hovering over a pan of leftovers with his name on it that served as his second dinner. He stopped stuffing his face long enough to inspect her. His eyes roaming, calculating and cold. He observed her like he was taking inventory; ankle combat boots, black jeans, bustier. He was so weird. Plucking her capsule wallet from the end counter, she waved over her shoulder, "Don't wait up." She was gonna have a good night. For the first time since she was a teenager, she was single for serious. Bulma Briefs was going to party like it's Year 799; though they probably only needed to wait a couple of years for the end.

The Saiyan shook his head and continued to eat. That woman was strange and he avoided her at all costs if he could help it. Her shrill shrieking hurt his ears. She changed moods like the weather on this godforsaken mudball. She was troublesome. She was vulgar; he recalled her invitation for him to stay. She had called him some sort of homeboy and told him he could stay as long as he didn't try to do naughty things to her. "As if I would stoop so low as to take a weak, bothersome woman like her," he grumbled between mouthfuls.

Her only useful point as far he could see was her innovative thinking. The training bots she had designed had proven to be quite useful when paired with gravity training. A normally easy warm up became a struggle to survive during gravity training. Other than repairing the bots or the gravity chamber he saw no further reason to interact with her as it usual ending with him either becoming confused by the woman's odd behavior or a battle of retorts and quips. The latter he didn't mind as the woman was quick witted and he always enjoyed a challenge, but he didn't have time to waste on such things when he could be training.

\--------------------------------------

Stumbling in the next morning with her mission accomplished, Bulma made her way to the kitchen. Cigarettes and sex still on her breath. She opened a cabinet in search of coffee beans. She had mastered the art of drinking just enough to get tipsy without the hangover long ago and her empty stomach churned letting her know she needed something in it as thanks for keeping everything down. Humming a tune they had played all night and now she just couldn't get it out her head as she hopped up on the counter to wait for a steaming cup of coffee. Resting her head back on the cabinets a small smile rested upon faded red lips. It was a good night.

Her eyes fluttered open as the coffee machine beeped. Leaping off the counter with her arms posed in the air, "and she sticks it." The fleeting thought of how she hated the gymnastics class her mother had signed her up for as a kid passed through her mind. Her eyes drawn to the open entrance of the kitchen as someone else walked in on her moment of the morning after silliness. "Mom's not up yet. Coffee?" A grunt was the only response she got. Rolling her eyes, she searched the counter for her favorite mug and an extra one for Mr. Grumpy Pants. "Cream no sugar, right?" She turned to look at Vegeta only to find him right beside her and squawked. Damn his quiet agility.

His eyes narrowed as they took her in. The mess of curls that crowned her hair, ponytail long gone. The evidence of kisses stained into her jaw and down her neck with purple lipstick. The stench of the night before that wafted over him. "You look like shit," he smirked.

"Well, I guess I look like I had as good a night as I did," she smirked handing him a mug. "What did you get into last night?"

"Nothing that concerns you," he brought the mug to his lips and inhaled the aroma. He had started to look forward to a cup of the warm beverage every morning. In all his days of traveling through the galaxy, he had never encountered something like coffee.

"Let's see," she tapped a finger to her nose, "Training. Training. Scavenging the kitchen. Training. Being an ass. Watching Food Network with my mom." She heard him grumble behind his coffee just as she heard her mother humming down the hall. "Time to go," she hurried out of the kitchen up to her room. The last thing she needed was her mother making a fuss about her appearance. The rest of her day would follow a schedule of shower, bed, roll out of bed to eat then back to bed to recuperate for a day in the lab tomorrow.

\--------------------------------------

Rolling out from underneath a jet, Bulma lay on her creeper using a wrench as a make-believe guitar. Leaping up to her feet, she danced her way across the room. Tapping her finger on the blueprints in rhythm. She preferred working in her personal lab with her music blasting. Other's preferred silence, but it did nothing but distracted her as she was left alone with her racing thoughts. Her father was the same. There'd always be music playing as he worked. He's a jazz and enka man and did his best thinking to Coltrane's saxophone. It was probably a habit he had picked up from her mother. "There it is," she pressed her finger to the paper. Spinning around, she bounced her way back over to the jet. "Maybe it's 'cus we're all gonna die," she kicked in stepped to with the song. Settling back into her creeper she slid back under the jet, "Oh no let's go crazy!"

"Shit," she hissed holding her eye. A loud bamming at the door startled her into dropping her wrench on her face. Sliding out a little too far, she came up and back into the real world. Stomping towards the door, she set her features into a stern glare as the door swooshed open.

"Woman!"

"The hell's your problem, Vegeta!"

"Your infernal training bots have broken again," he held up the contorted machine, "fix them."

"You can't be serious Vegeta," she shook her head and started back into the lab and he followed. Of course, he'd come to her complaining. Her father was away on business so there was no one but her fix his mess.

"I am," he dropped the bot unto a table and crossed his arms over his chest. His face set into that damn unwavering scowl.

"I'm not fixing it. You're like a spoiled brat. You break your toys then demand new ones all without even a single thank you."

"The fact that this planet has yet to be blasted into oblivion should be thanks enough."

"We feed you. We clothe you. We give you the facilities to train and yet you act like an ass."

"Fix the bots. I don't have time for your bitching."

"No. You don't have time? You don't do anything but eat, shit , and train."

"Well, at least, I'm not gallivanting around all through the night. I spend my days productively."

"Productive pain in my ass. Fix this. Fix that. Woman this. Woman that, and by the way, my name's not woman," she poked a finger into his chest and glared down at him, " the name's Bulma. Ms. Briefs, if you're nasty." A smirk crept upon her lips as his frown deepened. She settled into her desk chair and crossed her arms over each other.

"Well perhaps if you made them correctly in the first place. They wouldn't need constant maintenance."

"I'm not fixing them. You need to learn how to play with your toys without breaking them, Monkey Boy." She would not let him get away with talking about her inventions like that. The nerve he had to freeload then make demands like he's somebody's boss. Her eyes met his to set him straight with a scowl of her own. She froze, eyes wide with shock.

She felt the hot pain in her jaw before she saw his hand shoot out to grasp her. His lip drawn back with disdain in a sneer; baring his teeth to her. "You will never refer to me by that," he growled, "No more shall I be degraded or insulted with that word and especially not by a weak, pathetic bitch like you!" She struggled to focus as her world went red and hot. Her heart pounding in her ears. How could she have forgotten. She had got way too comfortable. This was Vegeta. The same Vegeta she had encountered on Namek. He could end her here and now with a flick of the wrist. She had seen how he killed Zarbon, a hand straight through the gut. "Do you hear me," he squeezed her jaw. She attempted to nod her head, but his grip prevented that.

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Good," he released her with a jerk. He straighten himself again and crossed his arms. "Now fix the damn bots, " he swiftly turned on his heels. Heading to the door, he flipped over one of her work tables to serve as a reminder. Who did she think she was, lording her power over him. He didn't need to be reminded that she was the reason for the luxury and comfort he lived in. She must think she has him under her control. That she can bend him to her will. A chill ran up his spine and his fingers twitched as the silvery voice of his old master rang through his head. No, he was free and would not be a slave to anyone again. Vegeta was no one's monkey. No one's pet. He was the Prince of all Saiyans, a race far more superior than any monkey. He should kill her for it. He would but not now. He didn't need Kakkarot raining down on his ass. He wasn't ready for him yet.

His hands clenched and unclenched into fists. He needed to kill, hurt or destroy something. The pangs that flared through his chest causing his breathing to shallow. Stomping his way out of the compound and into the GR. Damn that woman.

______________________________________________

Kicking the door closed behind her, Bulma trudged into her bedroom leaving a trail of clothes behind her as she made her way into the bathroom. She opened a lid on canister beside the tub as the water ran. Strawberries and cream would be just right for the moment, she decided and picked a pink and white ball out from amongst the rainbow of colored bath accessories. She dropped the ball into the warm bath water and watched it effervesced into rose pink. Maybe she'd send for a servobot to bring her strawberries and wine to go along with her bath.

She inhaled deeply and sighed as the warm water enveloped her up the neck. Her tired limbs relaxing. Taking a bite out of a sweet, dark strawberry, she moaned in bliss. "You deserve this."

After spending the rest of the day fixing the damned bots for the Prince of All Dweebs she deserved a little R and R. "Asshole," she muttered. Just who did he think he was coming in and demanding things without so much as a please and thank you. He was a royal pain in the ass that's what. "Got some kind of short man's complex." A snort of a laugh as she recalled just how short he is. It was frightening how much power was in such a compact body. She knew she shouldn't fuck with him just for the hell of it but someone needed to tell His Highness no once in a while. She also knew that for the moment he wouldn't kill her. He needed someone to repair his messes and yea he could always get her father to, which he did most times just to avoid her, but there was also the looming threat of Goku. She'd play this little game because whether or not she liked it they needed him if they had a chance to make it through this android attack. Plus it was just easier to be annoyed at him.

Sinking lower into the water she sighed and recollected on the incident earlier that day. "Ok maybe you shouldn't have done that, B," she reasoned with herself. It wasn't even right to call other races of humans monkeys, so why would it be ok to call another race of people that actually had tails that. Surely it had to be some sort of epithet. Judging by his reaction, it definitely was. "No more" she recalled him saying. A sharp pang of guilt stabbed in her chest. She had probably rehashed old wounds...from Frieza more likely than not. A chill traveled up her spine despite the warmth of the bath. "You fucked up, B." She had no idea what his life with Freiza was like but judging by the nightmares she could hear him waking from in the middle of the night it wasn't a great employment opportunity with benefits and a 401k. "Maybe you should like...apologize." Her eyes widened at the thought. Own her shit and actually admit that she had fucked up and seek forgiveness for something. Could she, Bulma Briefs, actually do that. "I will," her arms rested on the side of the tub and her hands gripping it wth determination.

______________________________________________

Placing herself in position, Bulma glanced over at the clock, any minute now. She had spent the day thinking over how she would go about starting the conversation and choosing her words hoping they were the right ones. She had even taken a trip to the bakery her mother frequented. The elevator dinged open down the hall and she could feel anxiety fluttering in her stomach and grip her heart as she heard the shuffling that accompanied changing shoes to house slippers. Just like clockwork, Vegeta walked in wiping his face with the towel, or a drying cloth as he insisted on calling it, around his neck. He tossed a water bottle into the trash then snatched the refrigerator door open and pulled out another. His head snapped in her direction fixing her with a glare. "What!"

She jumped a bit more startled by the roughness in his voice than she would have like to have been. "You want some cake?" His eyes narrowed, but he grunted in affirmation. Following him to the table, she carried the cake over. "You like chocolate, right?" He didn't respond, just studied the cake. Strawberry halves and chocolate shaving topped the white fluffy frosting of the chocolate cake. Bulma cut herself a piece and slid the rest of the cake over to Vegeta along with a fork. "You want milk?" Another affirmative grunt.

Settling down with a glass of milk and cake, Bulma glanced across the table at the Saiyan. He cautiously sniffed the cake. "What you think I'm trying to poison you or something," she giggled.

"I put nothing pass you, Demon Woman," he took the fork and started eating.

"I'm not a demon and if I wanted you dead you'd know. Besides we kinda need you," she rested her chin in the palm of her hand, a smirk on her lips.

"What do you want?"

Well, cut right to the chase. "I wanted to," she took a deep breath," apologize for yesterday. I was totally out of line for calling you that."

He quirked a brow, "and this is your bribe."

"Not a bribe," she waved her fork around, "My mother always says the way to man's heart is through his stomach and I know how much you enjoy food and thought things would go over easier if you had something to eat." He smirked and hummed in acknowledgment.

"Not as dumb as you look."

Her brows furrowed and lips pursed. She wouldn't fall for the bait. Turning her nose up, she scoffed, "Beauty and brains. I'm the whole package. Anyway, I also wanted to ask you about the training droids. How are they?"

"Acceptable."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "That's all? How can they be improved? Things that could use tweaking?" He stayed quiet a moment and continued to eat his cake.

"New strategies and formations. I've already learned their movements and patterns."

"Hmmm," she hummed and popped a strawberry into her mouth, "Doable." She collected her plate and stood to her feet. "If I make you new droids you can't go destroying them all willy nilly." Taking her plate to the sink then starting towards the hall, Bulma stopped at the open entrance. "Night Vegeta." Starting towards the wing of Capsule Corp she and Vegeta reside in, her thoughts wandered as usual when she was left to her own. That had been surprisingly easy. Just give him food and some new training equipment and he was satisfied? She doubted that. He hadn't actually accepted her apology. She knew he had the right not to. Just because you apologize doesn't mean the person has to accept your fuck up. She sighed and walked into her room. Stripping out of her clothes as she made her into her closet. She riffled through her pajamas and wondered why it bothered her so much that perhaps he wouldn't forgive her. "Who cares," she huffed though the heavy weight in her chest didn't let up. She had owned up to her mistake and hope that would relieve some of it but it didn't.

Plopping down into the seat in front of her vanity she took up the tedious task of roller setting her hair for the night. Why did she even care what he thought? He should be apologizing too. He would never. She growled under her breath and tossed a curling rod onto the glass top of the vanity. This was frustrating. He was frustrating. Sighing, she picked up the tossed rod and rolled it into her hair.

 


	3. Prototype

Mrs. Briefs blew unto her steaming cup of winter chai. Ginger and cardamom, she placed the spices. With a hint of sweet cinnamon, she noted as she stared across the table at her daughter. She could tell just by the look on her face that her daughter's thoughts were miles away. She suppressed a giggle thinking of how she got that from her father. "It's your move, Dear."

"Right," Bulma murmured, coming back into reality. Her brows furrowed in thought as she stared down at the chess board before making her move.

The older woman set her tea cup down after a dainty sip. Picking up the white bishop piece as if it would disintegrate if she used the tiniest bit of force, Mrs. Briefs moved her piece across the board. "Checkmate," she brought a hand to her lips to cover her giggle. Bulma's eyes widen as she brought a hand to forehead in frustration. "Bulma-chan, what's going in that head of yours? You don't usually make it so easy. Could it be that you're lonely since both Yamcha-chan and Vegeta-chan are training and have no time to spend with you?" Quirking one of her perfectly waxed eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"As if," Bulma snorted, "besides I haven't spoken to Yamcha in..."

"Oh dear, did you to get into one of your little spat?"

"Eh, well not really but I think it's for good this time, Mama."

"Is that so?" She took a sip of her tea.

"Yea, I mean things are just so different now. We're not kids anymore."

"You certainly aren't"

"I still want him in my life but the feelings that we had for each other have changed, you know what I mean?" The blonde nodded. Bulma sighed and rested her chin in her palm. "I should probably talk to him and reconcile things, huh?"

Her mother nodded. "Should I get some snacks together?"

"Sure mom," she chuckled a little. Her mother was always the perfect host. Since she was just the ultimate apologist now, Bulma figured it was time to make things right with Yamcha. By no means was she getting back together with him. That ship had sailed. They had too much history and too strong of a bond to just drop out of each other's lives. Yes, she'd talk to him, eat the treats her mother left for them and things would go back to normal, whatever that was. It was just time to move on. Her mother always said when one door closes another one opens.

 

* * *

 

The ground began to rumble under foot and the walls quivered as if in fear. Alertness shot through Bulma as the strawberry cupcake she had just been about to devour ended up on her face and not in her mouth. The fleeting thought about what a waste was trampled down by concern. As the bright light that flooded the room dimmed, her eyes dart to her mother as she screamed but seemed fine.

"What was that," Dr. Briefs mumbled.

"It sounded like an explosion," Bulma shot to her feet. Anxiety constricted her chest. Were they already here? Was the boy from the future wrong?

"It came from outside," her mother handed her a napkin to wipe the whipped cream from her face. Blue eyes widened in realization.

"The Gravity Simulator," she bounded towards the door. Her father had just been talking about how Vegeta was pushing himself in 300 times Earth's gravity and wanted more. That idiot. Outside Yamcha caught up to her as they ran to the back lawn. After they finished making up he had gone to start his training on the lawn.

"You okay, B?"

"Fine! I think it's Vegeta." It was freezing out but she barely felt it. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as they rounded around to where the Gravity Chamber once sat. She could taste the smoke on her tongue. Shrapnel strewn all across the lawn centered around the half of the ship that was still intact. She dropped down to her knees and froze observing the damage.

"It's no wonder this happened with the way he trains," she heard Yamcha though it sounded as if he was further away than he actually was.

"Vegeta," her shoulders slumped, "He couldn't have-" She began digging through the ruins. He had to be ok under all of this mess. A hand shot out from the rubble. Shock gripped her as she jumped back into Yamcha. Looking back up just in time to see Vegeta pull himself up and out from underneath the wreckage. "You're alive."

"Of course, I am," the Saiyan rasped, pulling himself up to his feet.

She sighed in relief. He was ok. Her brows furrowed and her fist clenched. "What's your deal, you jerk! You almost wrecked my house!" He grunted and scowled back at the shrieking woman. Her voice only making the pounding of his head worse. Straightening himself to full height, he opened his mouth to retort but his weak knees gave out and the next thing he knew he was no longer looking at the fuzzy image of the blue of her eyes but the blue of the sky.

"Vegeta," she ran to him, climbing over scraps of metal and kneeling uncomfortably beside him. Cradling him in her arms she sat him up the best she could. For someone, so short and small he was damn heavy.

"Mind y-your own damn business, Woman," he hazily spoke. Blood dripped down into his left eye. It was painful just to breathe. He was seeing double of the bothersome woman and the last thing he wanted was to deal with two of them.

"You're hurt. How is this doing you any good."

"Injuries such as this are nothing. I am Saiyan and I have to get strong enough to surpass Kakkarot."

"Right. Right. Vegetables and Carrots," a soft smile worked its way to her red stained lips, "I know you're real tough but even Saiyans need to rest." The easiest way to get this man to go along with anything was to stroke that giant ego of his.

"I don't take commands from you," he tried to stand to his feet and out of her arms but only managed to pass out face down in the mess he had made. Why was he so damn stubborn.

She looked from the unconscious Saiyan up to Yamcha. "Come on we have to get him to the infirmary." After that everything just seemed like a blur. She was running on pure adrenaline and determination. This asshole was not going to die before the androids even arrived while under her care.

 

* * *

 

"I'd say it's a miracle he got out alive though the only thing not bruised, scratched or broken on him are his eyebrows," Dr. Briefs crossed his arms over his chest, "These Saiyans really are something."

"Poor Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs brought her handkerchief up to her face to wipe a tear away.

"Come now, Dear. Let's leave him to rest," Dr. Briefs brought an arm around Mrs. Briefs to usher her out.

Bulma stood up from where she kneeled at Vegeta's bedside. The oxygen mask and all the bandages and tubes didn't suit him. He didn't belong there. Her brows drew together as she gazed down at him. That idiot. She sighed turning away from the bed to sit at the desk. A grunt from behind her freezing her in place.

"Kakkarot," he grimaced. His face contorted in pain and his muscles twitching. A sweat broke out on his forehead and ran down gathering in his bandages.

"He's having a nightmare," she quietly mused. She didn't want to even imagine what gave him nightmares seeing as he was the nightmare. Walking over to the supply cabinet, she grabbed a fresh towel and went to fetch water. She pulled up her chair, with the towel wrung out until it was damp. She dabbed at his temple with the towel. His grunting mellowed out a bit as she wiped at his brow. She giggled a bit as his brows relaxed and realized they weren't permanently furrowed.

Folding the towel, she placed it on his forehead. Her hand finding its way up into his hair. It was soft to the touch yet rough on her fingers as she ran them through his thick, coarse hair. She was always intrigued by the way it seemed to grow towards the sky. Examining a single strand, she found it wasn't straight but waved into little S's. Running her fingers through it again, she caught on a tangle. He'd have a fit when he woke, on the long list of things that would piss Vegeta off when he woke from his incident would be the state of his hair. She groaned realizing they'd have to deal with Prince Bad Mood when he woke up

Her thoughts retraced. He was a prince. She would never have guessed if he didn't spout his Prince of all Saiyans speech every other minute. Leaning back in her chair, she began to muse. It was there. The way he carried himself and walked, it was regal and proud. He definitely wanted to be waited on hand and foot like royalty. He wasn't Prince Charming by a long shot but he was a prince. The prince of a dead race. A chill ran up her spine. She didn't want to imagine what it would be like to lose not only every person you know but the planet you called home. "He has a right to be so pissy all the time." Taking another look at his face as he tensed with pain, she sighed. "No use staring at the asshole." She stood to her feet with the intentions of gather something to work on while she watched over him.

 

* * *

 

The Prince of all Saiyans lay in a purgatory of consciences and unconsciousness. His head hurt like hell and so did the rest of his body. He attempted to assess his injuries by testing his unwilling limbs and muscle. At the very least 3 broken ribs and perhaps some bruised. Pulled muscles and he couldn't find a single muscle group that wasn't sore. Forcing his eyes to open and to fully awake with a groan. He briefly took in his surroundings. He recognized it as the infirmary at Capsule Corp. that he had become quite acquainted with. He closed his eyes and sighed. How did he end up here? His brows furrowed as he wracked his brain to recollect the events that led him to end up in this bed. His eyes shot open in realization. The blasted gravity chamber exploded. He grit his teeth and cursed.

Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. What is she doing here? The blue haired wench sat asleep at the desk beside his bedside. From the look of the desk with papers scattered about and books piled on it, she had been there a long while. "Damn it all," he hissed and willed his uncomplying body to sit up. Vegeta forced himself to his feet. Stumbling over the air cast on his leg on the way to the door and dragging his IV behind him, he leaned against the door frame.

"Where do you think you're going," Bulma mumbled as she lifted her head from the desktop.

"To train."

"I don't think so," she stood to her feet and placed her hands on her hips, "You can barely walk. You've overexerted yourself!" He groaned in annoyance and opened the door. "Vegeta! Keep it up and your injuries will never heal."

"Annoying pest," he braced himself against the wall. She probably took such pleasure in seeing him like this. She probably thinks that he's so weak and needs her to take care of him. She just wants to lord her power over him.

"Look at you! You're going to kill yourself!" He grunted and attempted to push himself off the wall to leave the loud woman to do her nagging alone but his body just wouldn't follow. "See what I mean," she crossed her arms and huffed.

He turned to her and growled, "Do you want to die when the tin cans arrive?"

She brought a hand to her mouth and gasped, "Of course not! I'm still young and beautiful after all." She pushed a loose curl away to try and brush away the uncomfortable thoughts of what would come when the androids attacked.

"Then shut up," he shouted and would've fallen if it weren't for the wall there to hold him up.

"Vegeta," she gasped. Slowly walking over to him, she sighed. "Look Prince Badass. You're in pretty bad shape, okay. You can't go on training in this condition." He opened his mouth to reply. "Besides the GR got blown up, remember?"

"Damnit!"

"Look in the meantime you need to rest and heal. You're only doing more damage than good."

He clenched his fist. She was right. He could barely walk let alone get up to train. "Fine," he huffed. She reached out to help him back to the bed. "I don't need your help!" She rolled her eyes and watched him hobble back to the bed. She took her seat at the desk.

"They put you out for three days and-"

"Three days! Three fucking days!"

"Yes," she sighed this was going to be worst than she thought. "They induced a coma for your head injury but you Saiyans don't break so easily, so it wasn't too bad. You had a torn Achilles so they did surgery on that. Burns and lacerations just about everywhere. Whatever ribs you didn't break you bruised them. You broke your collarbone. You should feel like shit," she smirked, "You look it too."

"Fuck you," he rolled his eyes.

"Yea, yea I bet you'd like that." His brows knit and his cheeks flushed. He was so easy to mess with. "You must be in a lot of pain, do you want some pain killers."

"No," he snapped, "No drugs."

"Fine then tough guy," she rolled her eyes, "Bet you're hungry, though?"

"Of course, I am. I haven't eaten in three days," he groaned.

"I'll go get the doctor then tell mom her favorite is awake and hungry," she laughed and headed out the door.

 

* * *

 

"Oh Vegeta-chan," Mrs. Briefs cooed piling plates in front of the Saiyan, "I'm so happy you're awake! I was so worried!" She had been in a tizzy every since the accident. He hmphed and continued stuffing his face. Bulma quirked her brow at the scene. Her mother fussing over Vegeta and him inhaling everything she placed in front of him

After he had finished eating his feast, Vegeta slumped back against the inclined bed. Mrs. Briefs had called in servobots to take away the dishes. "You rest up now, okay. I'll send something by for you to eat later."

"Thank you," he nodded.

"You're welcome Sweetie," she rose from her seat beside the desk and sashayed out the room.

"Did you just thank her," Bulma asked; flabbergasted. Vegeta glared at her, his brows furrowing then turning his head away. He wasn't even going to acknowledge that statement. "You don't thank anyone. I've repaired your precious training equipment and you've never once thanked me."

"She feeds me." Bulma deadpanned. Damn Saiyans and their love of food. "Bring me some cleaning gel for my hair. I cannot stand this filth another second if it can be helped."

"Shampoo." He glared at her and her reflexive reaction was to roll her eyes. "Fine," she huffed and stomped out the door.

"Here," she threw the bottle of shampoo into his lap. He grunted and shifted his legs over the bed. She offered her hand only for him to responded with a scowl. She indignantly snatched her hand back. He limped over to the sink across the room and she watched in amusement. How was he going to wash his hair with one barely functioning arm?

He turned on the water and dunked his head under the faucet. She screwed her lips tightly together to fight a smirk as she heard him hiss in pain after trying to lift his arm. "That arm's in a sling for a reason."

"Shutup."

She strode over then snatched the shampoo bottle from the counter. He glared at her and huffed. "You shut up and let me help you, Asshole." He said nothing but turned his head down so he saw nothing but the sink. Running her free hand through his hair making sure it was thoroughly saturated. The S pattern in his hair was more defined now. The water that ran down the drain had taken on a murky color. Squirting more than the dime sized amount that was advised into her hand, she started lathering his hair. Her nails worked at his scalp and she could see him visibly relax just a tad. She chuckled a bit as she rinse his hair of the remnants of the explosion. When he first started his stay at Capsule Corp, he had thrown a tantrum to get a comb and something to put on his hair to keep it moisturized. Who would have the Prince of all Assholes would be so high maintenance.

She shampooed and conditioned his hair. After rinsing it for the last time, she turned to get him a towel. Just as she grabbed the lush white towel she felt water spraying on her. She squawked and turned around with fire in her eyes. "What is your deal! You're making a mess," she shouted at Vegeta; who was dripping water everywhere. She threw the towel at him.

"I can't use that!"

"Why not?"

"It's too rough."

"What!"

"I didn't stutter, Woman. It's too rough."

"Oh, my fuckin'-. What would be the proper material to dry your highness' hair." The sarcasm practically dripped off her lips. Vegeta frowned.

"Give me your shirt. That rag would make a proper drying cloth."

Bulma gawked. "This is Perry Ellis!"

"What," he quirked a brow upwards.

"Ugh, you get on my nerves!" She stormed out the room. Leaving Vegeta standing there with dripping wet hair and a victorious smirk on his lips nevertheless still perplexed. He shook his head. He'd just have to air dry his hair.


	4. I Get Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma and Vegeta find themselves at the same place at the same time.

Vegeta had demanded out of that blasted infirmary yesterday. He wouldn't tolerate being cooped up in that infernal bed. His body still wasn't fully functional and the pain was still there. Curse this backwoods mudball for not having regeneration tanks. He knew he needed to heal completely if he was going to get the most out of his training, so he would allow the healing process to take its course. The zenkai boost better be damn worth it for this.

The Saiyan gulped down a glass of cool, ice water and started out of the kitchen. Though he couldn't resume his usual training regiment, he had settled on forming a training regime while he was down. Nothing too strenuous but still productive to keep him from getting rusty. He had taken up a routine of stretching, meditating, jogging and a variety of other light workouts. He could hear the sound of music from the living room. His brows furrowed and frown deepened at the sight before him. These humans couldn't get much weirder. Mrs. Briefs cradled Dr. Briefs head almost suffocating him in her bosom as they swayed to the music. A groan of disdain rumbled up from his throat. That is where the woman got her vulgarity from.

"When the Hibari Misora is on it's best to just stay clear," the vulgar woman herself spoke from behind him. "Then if mom puts on Marvin Gaye it's best to just get out the house", she came and stood beside him shaking head. "Especially in your case," she started down the hallway. "I think they like you," she winked back at him over her shoulder.

His frown deepened and he fought the shudder that ran through him before starting down the hall himself to get to his room. Deciding to heed the woman's warning for once, he opened the wide-spanning window and took to the air up to the rooftop of the west tower.

 

* * *

 

Bulma kicked her bedroom door closed behind her. She picked her phone up and made her way to the bed. The phone began to ring and she plopped down onto the cushy mattress. She tapped her finger and lay back while waiting. "What's up, B."

"Hey Yamcha," she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling with her phone pressed between her cheek and shoulder. "How about we go see a movie tonight. before you leave on your training journey," her voice deepened as she mentioned the trip Yamcha was planning. "That one movie about the two cops that have to learn to work together that you liked. The sequel came out."

"I can't tonight. I'm hanging out with a friend," Yamcha nervously chuckled on the other line.

"A friend? I am your friend."

"Not my only friend." She could just imagine him rolling his eyes.

"Since when," she teased, "Who is it?"

"None of your business." It was her turn to roll her eyes. He was just trying to irritate her by being difficult.

"Who is it Yamcha!"

"Last time I checked you weren't my girlfriend, so quit acting like it," he chuckled hearing how agitated she was getting. She was so nosey.

"Whatever just tell me who you're ditching me for."

"Tien," he sighed, giving in knowing that she wouldn't give it up.

"Tien? Since when did you start hanging out with the cyclops."

"We've been hanging out for a while now," he replied almost sheepishly.

Bulma frowned. "Well, what I am supposed to do? Hang out with Prince Temperamental!"

"Isn't that why you invited him to stay," he jabbed back, and there was no way she could miss the harsh undertone.

"Shutup," she huffed rolling over to her side away from the wall, "When are you coming home?"

"I don't know, B. I just don't feel up to being around CC with him around. How about we go to the movies tomorrow?"

"Fine," she huffed,"Bye."

She tossed the phone aside and sighed. Glancing over her at her nightstand topped with pictures. A pang flared through her chest. She turned one of the pictures down, so it couldn't be seen. Though she didn't need to see it to know a bright smile was on her face and her hair in two pigtails. She only reached the teenaged girl in the picture's hips. Her gaze drifted to the photo beside it. She reached out and pressed her fingertip to the cool glass of one of the framed picture. A sorrowful smile worked its way to her lips. "He was so cute," she giggled at the bright smile on Goku's full, baby face. Yamcha's arm was around her. They were so happy then. Her gaze drifted to a picture next to it. Her arm was draped around a blonde young woman and a smirk on her lips. The other woman's face border lined between anger and amusement. "What are you up to now, Launch?" She sighed and rolled onto her back again. "I miss you y'know." She really did. It felt like everyone was leaving her behind. One by one they were all growing out of her life.

Tears started to sting her eyes and she pressed her palms into them. "Not doing this tonight, B." She took a deep breath and sat up. Bulma Briefs would not sit around and wallow in self-pity. Practically jumping up to her feet, she headed into the closet to grab a jacket. She grabbed one of her extra blankets and started out the window. She needed solace and knew just where to go to find it. After climbing up the tower, she settled upon the rooftop. The blanket wrapped around her protected her cheeks from the bite of the winter night. She clutched the soft pink material. The stars were beautiful. She closed one eye and reached out and felt as if she could almost touch the bright light years away.

"What are you doing?" His low gruff voice carried over to her by the cold breeze. She nearly jumped out of her skin. She needed to take a deep breath to calm her nerves before she turned to him ready to yell and scream. The words died on her tongue as she looked to him. A genuinely perplexed expression on his face. He sat not too far from where she had settled and now she wondered how she hadn't noticed him sitting there with one leg to his chest and the other dangling off the side of the building before. Her cheeks began to heat and pink crept up her neck to her cheeks.

"I-I. It's nothing," she turned away from him and sighed, "When I was younger I dreamed about traveling through those stars. I always looked up there and wonder what's out there. Now I know. I know it's just as shitty....if not more so but it's still so beautiful." He hummed quietly and nodded.

Bulma chanced a glance and he was still there. She had honestly expected him to up and fly off like he usually did but he still sat there gazing up at the starry night sky. She pulled the blanket tighter and sighed. She looked back up the at the stars. They didn't speak at all after that but she didn't feel the need to.

It had eventually gotten too cold and too late. Bulma decided it was time to head back inside. She glanced back over to Vegeta. He still sat there, gaze focused on the stars above. Up at the stars, he had come from. Did he miss it? There was so much out there and he had seen more than she could ever imagine of it.

He turned to her. Blues widened in shock and embarrassment of being caught staring. The saiyan's expression gave nothing away but his dark eyes were focused on her. She felt caught in his stare. Pulling the blanket tighter around herself, she cleared her throat.

"Goodnight Vegeta." He nodded but didn't look away as she started towards the edge she had climbed up from.

Once back inside and ready for bed, Bulma pulled the comforter around herself and rolled onto her side. A frustrated sigh filled the silence of her room. She closed her eyes but sleep still didn't come to her. A heavy weight that she couldn't move pressed down on her chest. She was being left behind, wasn't she? Not even Yamcha would be there soon. She had called him but he didn't come. She was left to spend the night with the Prince of Terrible Company. Well, he wasn't that bad. It was kind of nice.

"Oh Kami," she pulled the pillow over her head. Vegeta? Nice company? What was wrong with her? Was she really so lonely that even his company was welcomed. She heaved another heavy sigh. That stupid voice in her head was telling her that no matter what she said tonight wasn't that bad. Sure, she and Vegeta didn't speak much but it was nice just to have someone around. He was so strange but he intrigued her all the same. She closed her eyes and saw his dark, peering stare.

 

* * *

 

He sipped his mug of coffee. The brainy Briefs had yet to wake and they wouldn't for some time. Even though he was injured and unable to train the way he'd like, his body still woke bright and early. He sat at the table watching Mrs. Briefs scurry around with ropes of metallic foil. She was decorating for the holiday, that's what she told him.

"Vegeta dear," the blonde called from across the room, "How does this look?" She gestured towards the window which she had draped in that ridiculous red and gold shiny yarn. He hmph'ed only to appease her. He could care less how she decorated a window, but he couldn't take her asking him his opinion on such stupid things. "This is so exciting! Your first Christmas with us," she squealed; even if it was annoying it wasn't as loud and ear-splitting as her daughter's. He quirked a brow. Mrs. Briefs caught his look. "It's a holiday." Ridiculous. "I know you will enjoy the food," she giggled. He couldn't deny that. "There'll be chicken and cake and don't you worry there will be plenty of presents for you under the tree too!"

"Presents? For what? You don't give gifts just for the hell of it. What are you after?"

"Nothing Sweetie. It's just the tradition."

"You humans are strange." She just giggled and went to hanging a ring of leaves on the wall. He gulped down the last of his coffee then took his cup and left to the sink for a servobot to clean then headed to his room in the west wing of the compound. With the gravity simulator down and his injuries hindering him, he couldn't train like he normally would after eating his first pre-training session meal, or as Mrs. Briefs called it first breakfast, so now he had entirely too much time on his hands yet he wasn't just sitting around twiddling his fingers. He had fallen right into his new schedule.

Once back up in his room. He settled in the lotus position and hovering several feet from the floor right in front of the window that spanned from one side of the room to the other. If he couldn't training his body, he continued to train his mind. He would start the day with meditation and then go back downstairs for second breakfast.

He inhaled deeply and heaved a heavy sigh. His eyelids fluttered open then closed again as he began to broaden his awareness. Another deep breath and fluttering of eyes. Righting himself and touching his feet back to the floor, Vegeta opened his eyes and took another deep breath. Morning meditation was done now it was time to eat.

Making his way down to the kitchen, he could already hear the humans bumbling about. He grumbled a bit, bracing himself for interaction with others. Mrs. Briefs was still bringing food to the table. He went and sat in his seat without a word taking note of the dishes already placed.

"How's your morning been so far, Vegeta dear," the Briefs matriarch brought another plate of food to the table.

"Fine."

"Good Morning, My Boy," the old man mumbled from behind his newspapers. Vegeta grunted in response.

"Good Morning," the blue haired harpy screeched as she entered the room drawing the attention of all in the room, just as she wanted. She took up the seat next to Vegeta. She greeted him with a beaming smile and he didn't even attempt to hold in his groan. The muscle under his left eye twitched. The niggling feel at the nape of his neck was spreading and he didn't know how much more he could bare. That annoying little pest. Why was she staring at him?

"What," He dropped the sizable portion of food he was getting ready to shove into his mouth.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she shook her head with a smirk, a maddening smirk. Rolling his eye, he went back to stuffing his face and piling his plate.

 

* * *

 

Yamcha and Puar had left for their training journey today. Bulma had seen them off and giving them the treats her mother had whipped up, where did that woman find the time. This goodbye wasn't sad. She knew he'd be back. He always came back. It wasn't sad but it left her feeling lonely. He'd come back home but he wouldn't be coming back to her.

She heaved a heavy sigh and lay back on the rooftop. She had ended up here again. It had been years since she had spent this much time alone on the rooftop. When she was a lonely teenager with no real friends and a want for thrill and adventure. Life really does comes full circle.

"What are you doing here?" Her heart leapt hearing his gravelly voice. Blue eyes widened. She turned to face him. She was frozen in place as his feet touched down to the rooftop. His arms crossed in front of his chest and his featured fell into the perpetual scowl on his face. Regaining her bearings, Bulma arched a brow then turned her nose up.

"Minding my own damn business." He didn't say anything else but she could hear him grumbling under his breath as he sat down on the edge of the tower. She glanced over at him and a smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. He was still there.

 


	5. Come and Talk to Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do I seek something to set my mind free 'cause curiousity is buggin the hell outta me -Jodeci

The season the humans called winter had to be his least favorite. It was freezing. It reminded him of empty space. The chilling room temperature aboard the Planet Trade Organization housing ships. It reminded him of Frieza. He shoved his hands into the front pocket of the black jacket Mrs. Briefs had called a hoodie. His gaze drifted up to the night sky. He focused on the space between a few stars. That's where it was. Where it used to be. Where his home should have been. He could still see the light but knew there was nothing there. Now it was just space dust.

The sound of creaking and shuffling drew his attention. The woman was here. She had come up there the night before and the one before that. She sat there and stared up at the sky. She never said much save for a greeting and a farewell. Which was strange in itself being who she was but he was glad of it. She was always so loud and chatty but up on the rooftop, she sat quietly.

She settled into her spot with a blanket wrapped around herself. "Hey Vegeta," she looked over to him and he nodded without looking over to where she sat. They went on like that for several minutes but he could feel her gaze on him and that niggling of annoyance that she managed to invoke was working its way back. Just as he was about to speak her voice flitted over to him. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking why is this annoying pest staring at me."

She rolled her eyes, "When you look up at the stars what do you think about? Do you miss it? Being out there?"

"That's none of your concern."

"You're such a stick in the mud," she whined and stood to her feet. His shoulders stiffened as she approached him. She sat and settled beside him. "You really should loosen up, y'know. I was just wondering is all. It can't be easy adjusting to life on Earth after you've seen more of the universe than I could ever dream.

"Tch." She spoke as if he were traveling the stars on vacation. He had brought death and destruction to all corners of the universe. She spoke as if he was some spoiled brat traveling the universe to see what was out there and broaden his horizons. As if he moved at his own free will. As if he wasn't a slave to the orders of a sadistic tyrant.

"What was it like?"

"Cold," he bit back.

She giggled. It was more pleasant than her screeching. She didn't speak again until she left. Which he was glad of.

 

* * *

 

"Vegeta," she spoke. Was this going to become a habit? He only stayed because she hadn't tried to initiate a conversation but here she was trying it for the second time. He grunted in response, seeing no reason to waste his breath. "I had an idea." He rolled his eyes, it was time to leave. "About the gravity simulator." Perhaps he'd wait a minute or so.

"Go on," he turned to face, interest piqued.

"So I was thinking, the previous gravity sim went out due to the stress of the 300 times gravity and you wanted it more, correct?" He could see the exact moment a gleam sparked in her eyes as she held his gaze. He nodded affirmatively and she continued. "So I was thinking. To be able to safely train in that intense amount of gravity there needs to be a sustainable structure, solid foundation and I'm sure you wouldn't mind some extra space." Her hands flailed about in her excitement. "The idea just came to me because you know I am a genius," she flipped her wild mane of curls.

He rolled his eyes but, nevertheless, was enthralled in what she was saying. She would soon be rambling on about things he didn't quite understand but he was riveted. "Get on with it, Woman."

"Put the gravity simulator into its own room! I mean it's not like we don't have any spares around here." She placed her hands on her hips and nodded her head.

He hummed as the idea milled about his mind. "Perhaps you're not as dumb as you seem."

She shot him a glare and the amused smirk on his lips didn't go unnoticed. "Like I said beauty and brains, Homeboy," she winked.

"When will it be completed?"

The reflexive roll of the eyes and a sigh slipped from her lips but she answered him. "I already ran it by Daddy, so I'd say early next year. It'll be a late Christmas present."

He groaned. He was already behind on training because of his injuries and lack of a simulator. He'd put fire under their asses to get it done earlier but he'd settle for that. By then he should be fully healed and ready to start training to his full abilities. "Fine."

"Great," she squealed and rubbed her hands together. A new project was just what she needed to distract herself from life and loneliness. Who would have thought her only source of company would be Prince Prissy Pants. She glanced back over to him. His brows were furrowed in contemplation, more than likely thinking up how he'd threaten them or what he'd toss over first if they didn't get his precious simulator back up and running. The pale moonlight cast over his face. Her mom was right that wide forehead was kinda cute and Kami she'd kill for cheekbones as high and defined as his. A wicked smirk formed on her lips. "So Vegeta," she called over bringing him out of reverie ",What do you want for Christmas? Even if you are on the naughty list, I'm sure I could find something to put under the tree for you."

His head tilted a bit to the side and eyes narrowed. "What."

"Right, I forgot you're not from around these parts," she chuckled, "Christmas is a holiday-"

"Yes, I know your mother's informed me while hanging metallic yarn everywhere."

"Tinsel," she corrected, "Well since you know what Christmas is, what do you want?"

"What do you want? You wouldn't be offering me a thing if you didn't want something in return. Let's get to it, so I can tell you no already." He knew there was a reason for her being here every night.

She laughed. She threw her head back and laughed a full and hearty laugh. "You think Christmas presents are bribes! That's rich. What kind of fucked up world do yo-," she stopped herself. She had learned from the last time to watch her big mouth around him, he came from a whole other world. A very fucked up world. "Look, if I were going to bribe you I would've already gotten what I wanted by now."

"Is that so?" A thick brow quirked upward.

"Yes, I've gotten pretty good at it over the years."

"Demon Woman." He snorted, "And I took you for a foolish goody goody like the rest of those weaklings."

"I'm not a demon," she crossed her arms in faux anger, "but I have been a very naughty girl." She winked and all she got in response were drawn brows and a deep frown. She bit back a giggle and her eyes widen in realization. That had to be his confused face, how cute. "Anyway. What do you want for Christmas?"

"I don't want any of your presents," he sneered.

"Hmm," she brought a finger to her nose, "I guess I'll just have to surprise you." He growled in annoyance. "Well, it's late. I'm heading in goodnight," she turned towards the way she had come up.

 

* * *

 

He let out an exasperated sigh. She was coming up. Again. She settled on her perch and fumbled around with something in her arms. She was mumbling under her breath. She turned to face him. Her features drawn into a grimace.

"What," she snapped. He rolled his eyes. He wouldn't be staying for this. She was in one of her moods and the demon was rearing its ugly head. He didn't need to deal with that. Vegeta knew if he end up throwing her off the building Mrs. Briefs wouldn't cook him breakfast in the morning. He turned on his heels to leave. "Wait! Vegeta, I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I had a rough day."

"Tch," he walked over to the other side and sat on the edge of the tower. A rough day. She had no idea what a rough day was. He crossed his arms and stared out at the city. He could hear her shuffling. She was coming. Damn this woman. She settled beside him. She didn't speak and he was thankful. He could see her struggled with something out the corner of his eye and chanced a glance.

"Shit," she hissed, "Can you open this?" She thrust a bottle in his direction. "I forgot a corkscrew."

Vegeta knew he should've left. He snatched the bottle. It would be easier to open it than to listen to her whine. He looped his index and thumb around the neck of the bottle. He channeled a bit of ki into his fingers to heat the bottle then flicked his wrist, snapping the neck of the wine bottle. He heard her gasp and shoved it back into her hands.

"That was so cool," she squealed. His brows drew together. She was so easily amused. It was just a trick he had picked up when he was six and Freiza's personal wine opener. He hated being used for such a mundane task and Freiza knew it. "You're full of surprises aren't you," she giggled then took a swig of wine straight from the bottle. Such a classy lady. She hummed softly, "I deserve this."

She looked over to him and held the bottle out to him. He took it then brought it to his nose and sniffed. It didn't spell like that stuff Frieza practically bathed in. It smelled like the fruit the woman was always stuffing her face with and a few he couldn't place. He smelled cocoa that was in chocolate, he liked chocolate. He brought it to his lips and it went down smoothly. He passed the bottle back.

She gulped down more wine. "You know I almost had to kick someone's ass today."

He turned to her and brow arched in interest. This frail little creature kicking someone's ass, now that was something he'd like to see. Though all she had to do was talk and scream her opponent to death. She then went on telling about how at some meeting one of the subordinates attempted to challenge her and question her abilities. Even he could admit that though she was bothersome she knew what she was doing.

"I would've blasted him where he stood for challenging my authority," the Saiyan huffed.

"I guess that's why I don't have that power because I'd probably blast someone every day. 'What did you say about me bitch'," she extend her finger, "Pew Pew." She giggled and took another swig. "I mean I have two doctorates! How dare he question my abilities. I would've blasted his ass to the next dimension if I could."

He chuckled and took the bottle when she handed it to him. She was staring again. "What!"

"That's an indirect kiss," she smirked and leaned towards him. His brows furrowed and a tight-lipped frown marred his features. She giggled. Heat burned his cheeks. Her eyes drifted downward to his lips. Those big bug eyes lingered there for too long before coming to meet his eyes again. It was unnerving. Everything about her unnerved him. Anytime she was around he was put on edge. He shoved the bottle in her face. "Thanks," she threw back the bottle. "I bet you kissed lots of aliens, huh? Out there purging the universal and wooing....," she paused and narrowed her eyes at him, "whatever it is you're into."

"What is that suppose to mean." His lips pursed and her eyes were right back on them.

"Well, what are you attracted to? A different gender, same gender," a suggestive smile spreading across her face, "more than one gender?"

"I'm attracted to no one," he scoffed and turned away.

"Not even me," she fluttered her long lashes.

"Especially not you," he smirked.

"You must be blind and an ass." Her cheeks puffed out and she crossed her arms.

"I can most definitely see how unattractive you are."

"Oh please, Vegeta. You don't have to lie. We both know you want me."

"I can promise you I don't want a lusty, vulgar woman like you."

She leaned to the side towards him, her weight resting on her hand. She dipped her head low so that she looked up at him through her long lashes. "What if I told you that I wanted you?" A coy smile on her lips.

His brows nearly jumped up to his widows peak then dipped down into what could almost be called their natural furrowed state. He looked away from her. His gaze only snapped back to her as she broke out into laughter.

"Oh, your face. Lusty, vulgar woman, you're such an old man. You're so cute. "

"I'm not cute," he replied, mockingly.

"You're plenty cute, Vegeta." she chuckled, "Alright, alright. I'll leave you alone now." Her giggles calmed and she took another swig of the wine. She passed him the bottle again and he drank some more. She kept true to her word and didn't say anything again. He gulped down the rest of the wine. Why was he still here? With her of all people. If it were anyone else he would've been gone long ago. He simply tolerated the company of others. But this woman. He didn't mind her company and that unnerved him

 

* * *

 

He took a bite from of the cookie between his fingers. His brows drew together as he munched on the sweet treat and stared down at the checkered marble board. This was a game of strategy and tactics is what she said to lure him into learning how to play. He was a master tactician and he prided himself on his knowledge of battle strategy. He was sure she would be no challenge to him when he learned the rules of the game. He was proven wrong when she gave him the trouble she did. He was riveted in the game and enticed by the challenge. He plucked the black alabaster king piece and made his move. He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and sat back in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest. He had won this. He looked across the table.

"Your move," he smirked.

"Mama! Mommy," a screech sounded through the room from down the hall, "Mama! Where are you?"

"Oh dear, there's Bulma," Mrs. Briefs set her cup of tea down, "I better go see what she needs." The blonde stood to her feet with grace. "Oh but before I go." She picked the white alabaster bishop piece. "That's called a Ruy Lopez. Checkmate Vegeta-chan."

His eyes widened for a split second in shock. She had set him up. "If this had been more than just a simple child's game. You would've made a fine general, conquered and lay waste to many." Mrs. B had seen how uncomfortable he had been with so much time on his hands from not training and offered to teach him how to play chess. They had been playing every day from the time between his after lunch workout and dinner. He had yet to beat her.

"Oh you!" she waved a hand and blushed. "Let me know what you want and I'll fix you a big dinner tonight." He nodded as she walked away. Any time that blush crept up on her face she offered to fix him anything he wanted. It didn't take much to accomplish.

"Mama," the blue haired wench was still screaming from the other room, "Do we have cranberry juice?"

"I don't think so. You don't need it soon do you, Dear? I'll put some on the grocery list."

"Well, I'm going to need it as soon as possible."

He snorted and stood to his feet. What a spoiled brat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. This update was a little late and I'm sorry about that but ayyy give it up for demi Vegeta. I had hinted at bi Bulma a chapter or two ago.


	6. This Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna get to know you better, this Christmas.

Christmas at the Briefs residence was a wonderful time. It didn't snow in West City but nevertheless, it was always a beautiful sight at WST 3338926 K. Bulma rolled out of bed and over to her vanity. Her mother would be snapping photos of everything and she needed to be photo ready but still look as if she just woke up like in the movies. Undoing her rollers, she fluffed and finger combed her hair to her liking. After a bit of foundation and mascara, she'd be ready.

"Merry Christmas," Bulma cheered prancing into the grand living room. The tree was tall enough to almost touch the delicate crystal chandelier that hung above it. Gold was this year's theme and Bulma had to admit her mother had truly outdone herself. Gold painted floral, ribbons and bows with ornaments of varying size trimmed the tree. Presents of all sizes jammed pack around the tree. Stocking stuffed full hung from the roaring electric fireplace. The room was bright and glistening to the point of almost straining the eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Bulma Dear! Here, have a cup of coffee," Mrs. Briefs nearly shoved the mug into her hands, "I topped you off with a little something." She winked then pressed a kiss to her cheek. Bulma shook her head but took a sip. She was starting early this year. Her mother would have one too many cups of spiked coffee or get a little too bubbly when the champagne came out. She'd be off drunkenly dancing somewhere to her Diana Ross Christmas music, or worst cast scenario "Back Door Santa", by the end of the day. Bulma took another sip and shook her head again, that's exactly where she got it from.

"Merry Christmas, Sweetheart," her father mumbled from his seat in front of the fireplace with his nose buried in the morning newspaper. She went and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek before taking the seat across from him. She pulled her legs onto the plush cushion of the seat and rested her head on the tall back of the chair.

"Another Christmas without Tights," she sighed. Her mother visibly stiffened and her father brought his newspaper down so his face was visible. The eldest Briefs daughter was a rare sight at Capsule Corp. Bulma often joked that Tights visits were once every blue moon and the time reset like dragons balls after a wish. Her mother always scolded her for it. It more than likely hurt Mrs. Briefs most.

"Well you know your sister," Mrs. Briefs forced a giggle, "Off doing who knows what."

"If we're lucky we'll get a call," Bulma sunk into the seat.

"Of course, so we better keep a phone nearby," Her father went back to his newspaper.

"Why don't we start with presents," Mrs. Briefs held her camera up.

"Not going to wait for Vegeta," the younger woman snorted a laugh and even her father lowered his newspaper again.

"Oh Vegeta, won't be joining us. I had already given him forewarning and he decided not to partake. Though he was so helpful decorating." Bulma nearly choked on her coffee as a laugh bubble up. Vegeta hanging Christmas decorations now that's something she'd like to see. No doubt her mother had probably bribed him with food.

Taking a sip of her coffee. The beverage warmed her inside as the fireplace warmed her outside. Her gaze drifted the gold tinsel decoratively draped over the built in fireplace that spanned the wall. Stockings hung above the animated flames. A smile tugged at her lips as she spotted her's. She had decorated that stocking when she was just a little girl. She noticed an extra hanging beside her's. Her brows drew together as she tried to read that name on it. It wasn't like anything she'd read before. She looked to her mother.

"Is that Vegeta's?" She pointed towards the stocking. It was the only logical guess.

Mrs. Briefs turned in the direction of Bulma's fingers. "Oh yes. It was such a hassle to get to sit down and decorate. I had to fix him a platter of cookies just to get him to write his name. I told him crafts can be soothing, but you know him." The older woman giggled and went to go fish presents out from underneath the tree. 

Bulma's deduction had been right. Want a Saiyan to do something, get them food. She stood to her feet and walked over the fireplace. A slender finger traced the characters written in red puffy paint. His name, written in Saiyan? That'd be her inference. It was neat as far as she could tell. The characters were short and sharp with straight lines and edges. If it was possible to write something harshly he had managed it. Beside his name was a symbol. Three pointed prongs then underneath that were two horizontal lines with a curve beneath them.

"BulmaB, come open up your first present," Mrs. Briefs called.

"Okay Mom," she replied but didn't move. It would probably be boring without the great prince sulking around. She had wanted to see how he'd take part in the Christmas festivities. The thought of him trying to fit a Santa hat on his head had given her a good laugh or two. Now how would she purposely get caught underneath the mistletoe and watch him get so flustered he'd spontaneously combust. It was a bit disappointing but this Christmas would be like any other now she supposed. They'd spend the morning opening presents, then get dressed and ready for the extravagant dinner her mother had organized. The house would be full of people and holiday cheer. She just couldn't wait for the Christmas booze. It'd be the only the to get her through the "What happened to that nice baseball player you were seeing?"s and the "You're not getting any younger. when will you settle down and have some kids?"s.

 

* * *

 

There were a few stragglers hanging around. The chatty ones that wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise. The drunken ones still waiting for their taxi to arrive. Dr. Briefs was ushering a group out to the entrance and Mrs. Briefs had dragged Bulma to the kitchen to give her a hand. Bulma sat on the counter watching her mother pile plates up with leftovers.

"Would you be a dear and take this up to Vegeta-chan," her mother turned to her with an almost sickeningly sweet smile. You just couldn't say no to her.

"Sure thing Mom," Bulma hopped off the counter.

"Take a bot if you need to."

Bulma sighed as she walked down the corridor. She didn't mind doing the favor. She also didn't mind having a reason to go mess with Vegeta but damnit why did he need so much food. She stopped at the door, adjusting the tray in her arms to knock, but before her knuckles could even meet the door she heard grumbling on the other side about the damned woman. "Yo Ve-Ge-Ta! I brought you some food. I know you're hungry."

He opened the door and she walked right past him into the room. She hadn't been in the room since he started staying in it and nothing had really changed about it. The bed was neatly made and nothing out of place. If there were an inspection he'd pass with flying colors. He added nothing to the room and it just looked bland. It still looked as if no one had been using it. The only thing that would clue in was that it smelt like him.

He walked over to her and snatched the tray away. Snapping out of her observation mode, she glared at him. "It's rude to snatch, you know." He paid her no mind and took the tray to the desk in the corner and started gorging himself. Midway into a drumstick, he turned to her.

"Why are you still here?"

"Because I want to be," she turned her nose up and crossed her arms. He watched the woman stroll over to the bed and plop herself down on it. The muscle under his left eye twitched. She was a master at intruding in on someone's personal space. "What've you been doing all day?"

"Training."

"Of course. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Your Achilles should be almost healed. How do your ribs feel?"

"Hurt like a bitch."

She snorted a laugh. "You should've came down tonight it would've been fun."

"I don't see the fun in that noisy mess that was going on down there."

"Yea but I would've had someone to talk shit with and there was booze. Mom got Dom Perignon this year." He snorted and continued stuffing his face. She had noticed he had better table manner than Goku but still to see someone eat that much just freaked her out. "You wanna open your presents," she asked as he finally finished his meal.

"No."

"You've been cooped up in the room all day. Come open your presents, Vegeta."

"Will you ever shutup if I don't?"

"Nope."

He groaned and stood to his feet and started out the door. She guessed in Vegeta that translated to "Fine, I'll open your stupid presents but only to shut you up". Hopping up, she followed him out of the room. They walked in silence. Her gaze drifted down to his butt as he walked in front of her. She wanted to reach out and pinch it. She stopped and blinked, wow she really was her mother's daughter. Coming back to reality as they walked into the room where Vegeta's presents were still lying under the tree. She strode around him and over to the tree.

"Sit. Sit." He stood. She rolled her eyes but searched for one of his presents. The first she found was small box wrapped in gold gift wrap. "This ones from Mama and Daddy." He took the box and studied it for a moment. He brought it to his nose and sniffed. "Will you just open it" He shot her a glare but tore the paper away. "Ooo, what is it," she peered down over his shoulder as he opened the box. He shrugged his shoulder to get her away but she just moved to the other side. He hated how she towered over him in height.

"Ooo a Dopp kit," she cooed, "leather at that. Look it even has your name on it." She reached around him to point at the engravement at the bottom. "Open it" He stepped away from her, she was too close. He undid the snap button on the wraparound strap. Inside were creams and lotions. "Ooo look," she reached into the bag and plucked out a box.

"I thought I was supposed to be opening this."

"You're not doing it right," she huffed.

He snorted and took the box from her to open it himself. The black razor he pulled out glinted in the light as he examined it.

"Look it has your initial." She again reached around to pointed at the engravement. "It's pretty nice. You like it?"

"It's acceptable." She figured that meant "Yes, I like it very much" in Vegeta.

"Do Saiyans even grow facial, though," she quirked a brow upward.

"Yes."

"Really? So you could grow a mustache?"

"I could," he nodded, "My father had a goatee."

"Your father," she leaned in, "the king?"

"Yes."

"King," she waved her hand to gesture for him to go on.

"Vegeta."

She bit her lip to hold back the laughter. "King Vegeta. So it's a family name."

"Hn." He didn't want to talk about his father any longer. No need to bring up ghosts. "Bring the next one." He went and sat down in the chair, perhaps that could keep her from hanging over his shoulder.

"Right," she turned back to the tree and brought another present. She dropped it into his lap. "Here you go, Your Highness," she said sweetly with a mocking undertone. He glared up at her as he ripped off the wrapping paper from the black box. "It's from me." He opened the black box to reveal a pair of sneakers. "They haven't come out yet but when you're the Bulma Briefs it's nothing. You like?" He pulled the red lined black shoes out of the box. "These ones are pretty cool. They have a one-pull lacing system. I know how much you hate shoelaces."

He shot her a glare. She never let a chance to taunt him passed but he actually liked the shoes. "They're acceptable."

"Good. You'll look so good in them. I know you don't trust me buying you clothes anymore after the badman shirt, which I still say is a very nice shirt, so I told Mama to pick you up so clothes." She brought over a stack of long, slender rectangular boxes wrapping in various shades and patterns of gold. He could safely assume those were the clothes. "Great," he rolled his eyes.

"Let's see what's in your stocking." She walked over to the lengthy fireplace and unhooked his stocking. "Probably food." She heard him hum in amusement, he'd like that. She pulled out one of the candy canes hooked to the top of the stocking then dropped the whole thing into his lap. She perched herself on the arm of the chair as she opened the candy and started at it.

"That's mine."

She slowly pulled the candy from her mouth, tighten her lips around it and ran her tongue along it. She held it out to him. "Want it."

He frowned. "Vulgar woman." He turned his attention to the stocking and started digging around it. It was filled with different snacks and treats. Mrs. B. knew what she was doing. He unwrapped one of the confections and popped it into his mouth.

Bulma lay her head on the back of the chair. The warmth of the fireplace kissed her skin and lulled her into relaxation. The crushed velvet of the chair was soft to her cheek. She shifted one of her legs so it rested on the inside of the chair. It brushed against Vegeta's thigh and she could see him bristle. A smirk tugged at her lips and her eyes fluttered shut, intent on enjoying the moment. She didn't speak and once again she didn't feel the need to. 

She let a silent yawn slip. It was time to turn in, she reluctantly sat up. She didn't want to leave just yet. She didn't want to give up this moment of comfortable silence. She didn't want to give up a possible chance to get to know more about the enigma that was Vegeta. She didn't want to give up his company but she knew she had to get to bed or she'd end up snoring in Vegeta's hair soon.

"I guess I should turn in for the night," she opened her eyes and peered down at him to find him already looking up at her. The air caught in her lungs. She was trapped. Trapped in the void of his gaze. Deep and never ending like beyond the stars where he came from. Smothering, like the fires he's set throughout the universe. He peered down into her soul. He saw. It was tar black.

"Hn."

She couldn't leave it like this. Slowly yet surely he had been invoking her curiosity. She was naturally inquisitive, always had been. It was made her follow in the family business. So many questions she wanted to an answer to and he had become the biggest question mark. He had sparked an intrigue. Not just a desire to infer and deduce but also one that she didn't even want to admit to herself. She would shake away the thoughts that would haunt her late into the night after she would leave him on the rooftop. 

She reached out and traced his cheekbone with delicate fingers. She caressed his cheek with the palm of her hand. Her lips brushed against his other cheek. She drew back just enough to meet his gaze again. His eyes were wide. Her eyes fluttered close. She pecked his lips. It was brief but his lips were surprisingly soft and she could taste the coconut from the treat he had dug out from his stocking on his lips. She drew back again. She sighed a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. A soft smile formed on her pink stained lips.

"Goodnight." She stood from her seat on the arm of the chair and strode out the room. She turned a look over her shoulder once more before exiting. He sat there in the chair, eyes wide and brows drawn. He hadn't objected or blasted her on the spot so she'd assume it was 'acceptable'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems weird to post a Christmas chapter in Jan. but I wrote it in Dec. so it made sense then lol. Anyway it goes with the time and welp Bulma's making her move. Veggie's in trouble now lol. Thanks for reading!


	7. One Kiss at a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I see this is what you wanted. One kiss at a time, if I want to make you mine

Bulma took a sip of her coffee and, for probably the hundredth time that morning, her eyes drifted over to the empty seat at the table. He had started taking his breakfast every morning. New Years had come and gone. They had taken their trip to the temple like her mother insisted every year because they don't do nearly as much traditional stuff as they should living in West City. Her mother had invited him and, of course, he had declined. The training room had been completed and he went to her father with all inquiry. The only one that really saw him these days was her mother. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in months. It was starting to piss her off.

She took her mug and excused herself from breakfast. She wouldn't let that asshole get to her. There was too much work to be done to worry about him. She took the elevator to the floor of her lab. The whole way ranting in her head about jerks. She, Bulma Briefs, had blessed him with a kiss from her cherry blossom lips and he avoided her. How dare he. "I am Prince Dumbass Vegeta," she frowned and deepened her voice to impersonate him. She turned the corner and a blush spread from her neck to hairline. There stood Prince Jackass himself. His arms crossed and a brow arched upward. "What are you doing here!"

"The gravity room. Your father is away, so I ended up here."

"Of course," she rolled her eyes and walked past him. She punched in the access code and her door whooshed open. "Let me get my tools." She dropped her things off on a workbench and threw the strap of her tool box over her shoulder. "Alright, let's get your precious GR back running," she paced out the door and pass the Saiyan. She'd get this over with quick and easy. If he wanted to play like that, two could play that game. If he wanted to ignore her, she could ignore him. She could dish it all right back at his big forehead.

He stood across the room against the door, waiting for the woman to finish. He had hated to have to go her to fix it but the old man was away on a business trip. Hopefully, she would show some decency and fix the gravity room then leave. He had been avoiding her since her advances towards him on the holiday the humans celebrate the winter solstice. She wasn't the first to ever make a pass at him but she was the first to get away unharmed. He had allowed her to get too close. He couldn't allow it any longer. Not only was he wary of her intentions but also unsure of why he even let it happen. He was used to the constant warring internally but never of a matter such as this. Never over another and not deciding how he'd take their life or revenge. He didn't even want to kill her if he was being honest. Which made him all the more wary of her. She was trouble. 

"Alright, it should be all fixed," she slid out from under the control panel. He watched her briskly collect her things and leave without another word. She just glared at him and rolled those big bug eyes. He was relieved.

 

* * *

 

Bulma pressed the heel of her palms into her lower back and started out of the lab. She had made significant progress today and decided it was time to stop for the day. She took the elevator up to the residential floor. She was starving and sure her mother would have none of it. She moseyed into the kitchen. Her eyes looked to the clock on the wall. Damn, she hadn't noticed how late it was. She sighed in search of food which didn't take long as she spotted the bamboo steamer on the counter. She plucked the note off the top. "For my hardworking girl. I stashed these away from Vegeta-chan," she read out loud with a smile on her face. The little hearts drawn all over the yellow sticky note made her giggle. She'd have to take her mother out sometime. It had been too long since they had spent some quality time together. Opening the steamer, she found two big pork buns just for her.

Bulma stifled a yawn with the hand that wasn't holding the plate of meat buns as she walked out of the kitchen and into the vast den. The room was dark and quiet since her mother had already gone to bed but when she walked in the lights flickered on. Glancing out the spanning glass door that led out to the terrace the sky was painted a midnight blue and the moon high in the sky was the perfect background of the skyline of West City, such a beautiful view from Capsule Corp. She reached for the remote and turned on the television.

He had gone to the kitchen for something to eat before going to sleep. He had no intentions of going into the den where the woman was watching television. He could hear her laughing every now and then at some silly joke. He walked out of the kitchen and into the den because it was the quickest way to get back to his room. "Ve-Ge-Ta!" She said his name with that pronunciation, stressing the V until it sounded like a B and breaking every syllable. Human accents. He didn't feel the need to respond. "Hey, Prince Asshole! Why are you ignoring me?"

This time, the only response she got was a scowl as he bared his teeth to her and growled in annoyance. She could see his elongated canines and couldn't help but think how pretty his teeth were, perfectly aligned and pearly white. She shouldn't have expected anything less of Prince Prissy. She sighed. "Come watch tv with me."

"Why would I do that."

"Because you enjoy my company," she smirked.

"Where would you get an idea like that," he mirrored the smirk on her face.

"A woman just knows," she cooed, in the same way he mother did. It was unnerving. "Now, come come," she patted the cushion beside her. He rolled his eyes and walked around to and sat on the sofa adjacent to where she sat. She crossed her arms and pouted. "Dweeb." The only response she got was a scoff. "Shush it's coming back on." He directed a perplexed glance her way, she was the only one talking.

On the television, were four men dressed in variations of the same outfit. Ununiformed. Fog rolling on the floor of the stage. Behind the four men was an assortment of different instruments. The woman started to sing in time with the man on the television.

"What's the point of you watching this if you're just going to drown out the television with your shrill voice?"

"Shutup," she shot a glare over to him.

"I'm just saying," he shrugged a teasing smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the television. She'd clap along with the song and gyrate in her seat. One of the men started pounded at the keys of the instrument strapped to his shoulder.

"I wish I was that keytar." The woman squealed and he looked to her just in time to see her wiggle around and fan herself. Salacious wench. Television time was over. He had enough of these weaklings gallivanting around on stage singing about raising a family and love, and the woman damn near creaming her panties over it. He stood to his feet.

"Where are you going," she looked up at him.

"To bed."

"Aw don't leave yet!" She lifted the remote turning off the tv and he found himself plopping back down on the couch. She moved over to sit beside him. "You know I really could've used having you around the last couple of months. Remember the dickwad I had told you about at Corp that was giving me a hard time? I had thought about having you come blast him," she chuckled and looked over at him.

He smirked in amusement. "I don't do anyone's dirty work anymore." He was a free man now.

"Yea. Yea," a soft smile crept upon her lips as she watched him. "That's why I took care of it myself." He turned to her and that wicked gleam was present in her eyes.

"Demon Woman," he snorted a chuckle.

"How were woman treated on your planet?"

His brows drew together and he turned away from her. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking again. "If you were strong that was all that mattered. Then again I was only a boy, so I wouldn't know."

Her lips pursed. She hadn't known that. "What about your mother? She was the queen, right?"

He was silent again before he spoke. His mother, he had forgotten her face along with other memories he had locked deep into he recesses of his mind. She was small but powerful. He knew that's where he got his stature, instead of his father's. He remembered Nappa telling him how she would defeat whole armies single-handedly. He remembered the deep umber of her brown skin and knew he had more of his father's complexion. He remembered the way her presence in a room commanded attention and respect. He remembered following behind the flow of her scarlet cape thinking how he would do the same. He remembered how she coddled him and he feigned hatred towards it because a Saiyan Warrior was not coddled. Memories he wished not to remember began to surface and he knew it was time to abandon that train of thought. "My mother, Queen Caigua," he paused, he hadn't spoke her name in years, "was a powerful warrior and she bore a powerful heir to the throne. She was regarded as something close to a god. She was everything the Queen Mother of Vegeta-sei should be."

Bulma hummed and nodded in intrigue. Her mind thinking a mile a minute about what his mother must've been like. Did he look like her? Act like her? She looked over at him and noticed his tense posture. She'd drop the subject. No matter how big and bad he was it couldn't have been easy to lose everything and everyone. Especially when he was just a boy. "So why exactly were you avoiding me? I mean I thought we were good," she laughed a little, "I even gave you a kiss. You know how many would die for a kiss from me."

He turned back towards her and tilted his head. The woman was all over the place and he wondered what went on in that supposedly big brain of her's. "I have no interest in a kiss from you," he sneered

"You didn't like it all." He shot a glare at her. "It was my Christmas present to you," she said with a coy smile.

"I never asked you for a kiss," he huffed.

Her lips screwed up. He was right. "I should've asked. So, can I kiss you?" She moved closer to him and she could see the strong brownish red in his terra cotta skin become more prevalent in his cheeks. Aw, he was blushing. Who would've thought the evil, alien with a Napolean complex would blush at the thought of kissing her.  
  
"Woman," he threatened but didn't move away from her.

"Relax. You've got to let go every once in a while," she whispered. Inwardly rolling her eyes as she forgot just who she was talking to. Would he just loosen up for once. Her hands slid down his arm to his. Her fingers gently stroked his wrist while pulling his hand to rest on her hip. Once settled, she brought her hands back up to his shoulders.

So fragile. He could easily snap her without much effort. He could end her existence with a flick of his wrist and yet here she was staring down at him. Not with fear in her eyes. Warm eyes, filled with something he couldn't quite place. He was used to fear and anger. The look in her eyes made a warmth shoot down through his belly, a fleeting thought comparing it to lightning striking passed through his mind. His brows furrowed. This was new to him and he wasn't exactly sure how he should proceed.

"I could crush you."

"Yea, you could," she leaned into him and chuckled, "That's kinda hot."

He tilted his head a bit and arched a brow upward. "You're strange."

"I could say the same for you." A small smirk worked its way across her lips before she pressed them to his.

He didn't move; neither responding nor rejecting her kiss. She drew back to gauge his reaction. All she got was a stoic mask of no emotions. A high pitched laugh slipped from her as she tried to reign in her nerves. This wasn't what she expected. "Sorry," she rubbed the hair at the nape of neck up. Vegeta frowned, it was very reminiscent of Kakarot. "I guess you weren't ready for that."

His hands were still on her hips and he was boring holes into her soul with those deep, dark eyes. "Don't tell me what I am or not ready for," he huffed.

"Right, right," she chuckled. Inhaling deeply to calm her nerves, she leaned into him.

She pecked another kiss to his lips. He watched her eyes flutter close. Her lips parted to coax him into deepening the kiss and he allowed her to do so, out of curiosity? That's what he was going with. Just testing these new waters. She sighed taking his lip in between her's. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip and his hand gripped her hip. Her arms wrapped around him pulling him against her body. He pressed forward and she pulled back.

Biting back a smile, she looked down into his dark eyes. "I should call it a night. I have an early morning." Pecking his lips one last time, she pulled away from the embrace they had formed. The sudden loss of her soft, warm body against his had him feeling cold despite the warm spring night. "Night Veggie," she winked and turned on her heels.

His eyes narrowed as he watched her walk down the hall. Then he sat there several more minutes. What was she doing to him? What did she just call him?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay of this one. Well things are getting moving, huh? Thanks for reading!!


	8. Soon As I Get Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's so hard for me to tell if this is just desire or the love I need to make my spirit whole.  
> How am I to know? -Minnie Riperton

Bulma slunk out of bed. Early to bed, early to rise makes a lady smart, pretty and wise is what her mother always said. Bullshit. She rubbed her eyes and headed out of her room. She needed caffeine. If she could she would take it via IV drip. She shuffled down the hallway and could hear her mother giggling. How could she be so cheery and awake at such a hour? Bulma groaned, stumbling into the kitchen and onto an unusual scene. Her mother was giggling her head off which was nothing out of the ordinary but what really made her question if she was awake or not was Vegeta. He sat at the table with a mug of coffee in his hand and a smirk on his lips.

"Oh Bulma dear, you're up early this morning," her mother cooed. Vegeta's attention shifted to her and the smirk that was on his face dropped so fast she questioned if it was ever there. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Please and thanks, mom," she plopped down into the seat beside Vegeta.

"You look like shit," he shot from behind his mug.

"I feel it." He scoffed. If she were fully awake she probably would've come up with a witty retort but she was just too tired.

"Why are you up so early, Darling," Mrs. Briefs brought over a big mug of steaming hot coffee just the way she liked it.

Bulma took a gulp before replying, "I have a big deadline coming up. I'm getting ready to take over at Corp, so I want this project to be perfect."

"That's my girl. Ever the hard worker!"

Vegeta snorted then decided he'd finished off his coffee as fast as possible and leave. He still wasn't sure what to make of the night before. He still wasn't sure how to perceive the woman herself. She annoyed him with her voice and pestering. She amused him with her witty mind and sharp tongue. She challenged his mind and there was nothing he enjoyed more than a challenge. She brought on feelings he had never experienced before and it confused him. He opened up to her and he didn't particularly know why. He found himself speaking of things he'd buried long ago with her. She confused him. She made him uncomfortable. She made him feel too many things and it made him angry. Anger made him more comfortable. It was an emotion that had enveloped him his whole life. He'd almost say it was his default. He settled on being angry with her. He could handle anger.

He gulped down the last of his coffee and stood from the table. He didn't need to be around her any longer than need be. He dropped his mug and plates into the sink and left for his morning training. That's what he needed to be focusing on, training and not some woman. He wasn't Radditz or Nappa. He wouldn't get caught up chasing after a woman like some kind of hedonist.

Once Vegeta went to the gravity room that's where he stayed for the rest of the day, only coming out to eat lunch then right back to it. When he finally exited the gravity room for the day, the full moon was high in the sky. He went to his room and showered away the filth of the day's training. He opened the bedroom window and took to the air. His feet softly touched down to the rooftop of Capsule Corp. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared up at the moon. Even without his tail, he could still feel the pull. He closed his eyes and said a short prayer in his native tongue. If you ever find yourself lost, look to the moon. The moon will always guide you, my son. A voice he had long ago fought to forget spoke. He had dreamed of her last night. He hadn't dreamed of her since he was a boy. It was the woman's fault.

He sat on the rooftop enjoying the feeling of basking in the pale moonlight. It was quiet. The demon woman wasn't here. Good. He didn't want to see her. His head rested on his hands as he lay back. This is what he wanted, what he was used to. Solitude.

It had carried on like that for a few days. He would rise early and train until late. Just like every other night, he ended this one out on the rooftop in solitude. The woman was still working at the lab, so she was nowhere to be found. No distractions. He was thankful for that much. He devoted his attention to training. Pushing himself and his limits every day. He could almost feel the power of the legendary in his reach. He looked to the moon once more before heading back inside. The kitchen being his next stop to see what Mrs. Briefs had for him.

He stopped in archway entrance. His brows furrowed. The woman most definitely took after her mother. Mrs. Briefs pranced around the kitchen island with a martini in hand. She sang softly along with the music. Something about emotions taking over and kissing goodnight. Emotional humans. Her voice was pleasant and she could hold a note. He debated whether to turning on his heels and leaving or just marching through her little performance. "Oh Vegeta-chan," she cooed. It seems the debate didn't matter now. "I was just whipping something up for us. It looks like it's just going to be us two tonight." She smiled. Who was she trying to convince with it?

A timer went off and she scurried over to the oven. After slipping on her pale yellow oven mittens, she pulled four trays of pasta out the oven and lined them all up neatly on the white marble counter. She turned back to Vegeta. "Since it's just us why don't we do something different?"

"Hmph," he crossed his arms. He really didn't care as long as he got to eat whatever smelled so good. She picked her martini glass back up and called for the servobots to carry the food out as she left the kitchen. He followed behind her, contemplating knocking the bot down and taking the food and eating it now. As they walked into another room the lights flickered on as they entered. In the center of the room was a grand beast of a piece of red machine. Along the wall were different types of contraptions with strings.

"Sit. Sit. Go ahead and start eating, Honey," she gestured towards the cream colored chairs on the opposite side of the room. He plopped himself onto one of the chairs and snatched a tray a food. She always insisted on calling him things like sweetie or honey. He wasn't sweet. Mrs. Briefs sat on a deep red crushed velvet bench behind the red beast. She lifted a lid and revealed ivory and ebony keys. Her fingers danced over the keys and it began to sing. His attention drifted from his food up to her. The tune she played was gently and melancholy. He continued eating, it was pleasant. She wasn't too bad. With her looks and talent, if this planet had been purged and harvested for slaves, she'd have probably ended up in a tavern somewhere. That wouldn't be too bad, she didn't deserve anything harsher.

He was on the second tray and she was on to another song. This one a bit more upbeat. She swayed side to side and played before she started to sing. "Everybody needs a change. A chance to check out the new," she smiled over at him, "But you're the only one to see the changes you take yourself through. Don't you worry about a thing, Ve-geta." He rolled his eyes and snorted before finishing up the last of his tray. Mrs. Briefs giggled a bit as she wound down her song. Vegeta shook his head. He could tolerate her more than the other humans. She was too damn over the top and he'd just leave when she went overboard but she wasn't as dumb as she played. Plus, it was nearly impossible to insult her. She just blushed and giggled. Most importantly, she fed him.

"Thank you Vegeta," she took a sip of her drink. He quirked a brow. Thank you? For what? He just sat there and ate. "It's been so long since I've had someone to listen while I play. You know, I was once a recording artist but when I got pregnant I gave it up." His brow was still arched. Why give up your occupation for a brat? Saiyan women didn't stop being warriors after giving birth, did they? His mother hadn't. She was often away on missions and he remembered being excited to train with her when she would return. "Love is like a game of chess," Mrs. Briefs started again seeing his perplexed expression. He turned his attention back to her. Glad to be off of that train of thought. "One false move and you're mated. One day you'll understand," she cooed.

"I am a warrior. There's no place in my life such trivial things," he huffed.

"I suppose but only time will reveal what's in store." She sipped the last of her martini. "I used to say the same thing." She held the glass up. "Oh dear, it's all gone." Vegeta watched her scurry out to get more. He took his last tray of pasta and left. She had no idea what she was talking about, just drunken babbling.

 

* * *

 

Bulma flung her lab coat back into her personal locker. She pressed her fingers to her lips and her fingers to the Purple Rain poster inside the door of the locker before slamming it shut. Her back ached and her fingers and wrist were sore but she had a smile on her face. She was drained but the excitement of meeting her deadline and the pride in her work outweighed it all. She was giddy with thoughts of a bath to soothe her aching muscle and to give herself some of the TLC she'd been neglecting the past couple weeks. Maybe light some candles and put on some soft music. She made her way up to her room and indulged herself.

Bulma felt like a new person after soaking the stress and tension of the day away. She pulled a baggy t-shirt on and left for the kitchen in search of a midnight snack. She rummaged through the refrigerator, pulling out her favorite treat. She hopped up on the counter dangling her feet. She popped a strawberry into her mouth and hummed in bliss. The perfect wind down after such a hectic day. She sighed in slight disappointed. A part of her was hoping she'd run into Vegeta. It wouldn't be too far of a stretch to see him scavenging the kitchen. She hadn't seen much of him these past weeks other than him leaving the kitchen in the morning.

That would be her next stop. She hopped off the counter and headed towards the wing both of their rooms were in. She passed her room up and continued down to the end of the hall. Her knuckles rapped against the door and it opened quicker than she expected it to. He probably already knew she was there; smelled her or something. Saiyans. He was shirtless as usual and that only brought a bright smile to her lips to greet him with. It dropped off her face as soon as he spoke.

"I thought I had gotten rid of you." His brow arched and the corner of his mouth quirked.

"Can't get rid of me so easily." She brushed past him and into the room.

"What do you want," he closed the door and crossed his arm over his chest, following behind her.

"I just thought I'd swing by. I'm sure you missed me," she strolled around the room. It was just as barren and freakishly clean as it was the last she saw it.

He snorted out a chuckle and sat at the foot of the bed. "I was enjoying your absence."

She turned to him and put on her puppy eyes. "Aw Veggie. Don't be like that. I missed you." She walked towards the bed, a wicked gleam in her eyes and smirk on her lips.

"Of course, you did, Bullmoose."

The gleam in her eyes sparked a fire as hot as a blue dwarf star when she narrowed them at him. "I told you not to call me that!"

"Then don't make up ridiculous nicknames for me."

She placed her hands on her hips and huffed. "Fine."

He smirked in triumph. She sat down beside him on the bed. He could smell the jasmine from the bath salts she had used. He could feel the heat radiating off her arm. His chest tightened. That same feeling as before shot through his gut. He felt an urge to fulfill a need, but he had already eaten. He wasn't in battle yet surges of excitement flowed through all of his limbs and she was the cause of all of the feelings.

"So what have you been up to." She rested her weight back on her hands that dug into the mattress and looked over at him.

"Training."

"Of course," she smiled, "How's it going?"

"It's been productive."

"Good and the GR?"

"Acceptable."

She softly chuckled. Everything was great. "Good. I'm sure you'll be super in no time now."

"Hn," He smirked. The power of the Legendary was within his grasp. It would be soon indeed.

"Y'know, I really did miss you, Asshole." She leaned in towards him. He turned to her and stared. Missed him? He wasn't one to be missed. She couldn't help but laugh at the perplexed look on his face. "Geez, you're so easy to mess with," she plopped back on the bed with a small smile on her face. He shot her a glare and huffed. There she goes just making herself comfortable in someone else's space. "As strange as it may be, though, I'm glad you're around. I didn't think you and my mother would get along so well," she giggled. They were an unlike duo but leave it Paunchy Usagi Briefs, the sweetest and most man crazy soul to grace this planet to get in good with the villainous alien. 

"She's tolerable."

"Right," she rolled her eyes and chuckled. If anyone asked her they were best friends. "I didn't think it'd be like this when I invited you to stay here. I don't know what I thought it'd be like." He looked back at her and she stared up at him. "I didn't think I'd want you this much." His eyes widened then narrowed as she sat and leaned in close to him. She bit her lip. When he looked at her like that she felt like he was seeing down into her tar black soul. "Every t.ime I'm near you, I get this feeling." She sighed, feeling her chest constrict and the air around her heat. She had been holding it back for a while now but she wanted him in the worst kind of way. "Can I kiss you?" He sat up straight as if that was a response. She playfully rolled her eyes. "If you want me to kiss you, you have to let me know. I feel like a creep, so meet me half way." She moved in her lips just a breath away from the soft, full lips she remembered. All he had to do was tilt his head, but he didn't move and her courage began to slip away. She drew back from him and looked away. "I should go," she started to stand and he grabbed her wrist. Turning back around, she met his gaze. His brows were drawn together and his eyes were searching her's. She moved to stand in front of him and reached for his other hand. She intertwined her fingers through his and bit back a giggle as he frowned. His hands were surprisingly soft, that must be what the gloves were for. "You have to let me know that you're okay with this." He looked at her with a stoic expression. She lifted her leg and settled it outside of his thigh. When he didn't object she lifted the other to straddle him. "Vegeta," she whispered, letting go of his hands and sliding her's up his arm to his shoulders. "Can I kiss you?"

"Hn."

A soft smile settled on her lips. She brushed her lips to his. He leaned into her without coaxing. Every one of his senses was enveloped by her. He watched her eyes flutter close. Her scent engulfed him. The taste of strawberry on her lips. Her fingers in his hair. The quiet moans that slipped out. He wasn't as clumsy as before. His teeth nipped at her lip and he growled low in his throat. She had awakened something in him.

She pulled away from the kiss and stared into his eyes. She searched and found no end. They were smoldering. Her breathing was shallow and heat surged through her veins. "Vegeta," she sighed. Her lips and tongue trailed down his neck. Her hips ground into his lap. He grunted as she nipped at his ear. She caught his gaze again. Her hand slowly, almost cautiously, slid down his chest. Her fingers spread out as they ran down his abdomen. Her fingertips traced the growing bulge in his nylon basketball shorts. His back went rigid. "If you don't want this, say so." Her palm caressed him over the fabric. "Is this ok?"

"Hn."

Another small smile crept upon her lips and she leaned in to kiss him again. The kiss grew fevered quicker than the last. His hands clutched the comforter on the bed. His skin felt as if it were on fire. He bit back a groan as she slowly stroked him over his shorts. She licked and nibbled up his neck. Her fingers played with the waistband of his shorts.

"Can I?" Her lips brushed his ear as she whispered. He could feel the last of his control and reason slipping away.

"Hn."

Her hand dove into his shorts and came back out with her prize. She bit her lip and sighed out through her nose as she palmed him in her hand. His grip on the comforter tightened at the direct touch. She leaned into him, her lips at his ear again.

"I want you, Vegeta. I want you inside me." He turned to look her in the eyes. A frown on his face. Vulgar. "Do you want me?" Did he? Was this what the feeling was, a hunger for her. Was the excitement that usually surged through his veins in anticipation of battle, in anticipation of her?

"Hn." He peered into her eyes. The last of his reason gone.

She pressed her lips to his. "I'll take care of you. Just relax"

"I don't need to be taken care of." He rasped and her insides quivered hearing the husky timber of his voice. 

"I know. You're a big boy now. You can take care of yourself" She smirked and pulled her t-shirt up just enough so it wasn't in the way. "But not in the way I can." A moan slipped from her lips. She was really going to do this. She was going to fuck Vegeta.

His eyes hesitantly venture down to where she aligned him with herself. She let the t-shirt go and it draped down covering their joining like a secret. Covering their shame. His eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched. Warmth. Nothing could compare to this warmth.

One hand ventured up his back and the other his hair. His coarse hair was soft between her fingers. Her fingertips traced the scars on his back. Her lips met his. From his lips to his cheek. A nip at his ear and down his neck. Her head came to rest on his shoulder. Then she moved. She squeaked and moaned in his ear. It sounded damn good. The complete opposite of her usual screeching. He opened his eyes just enough to look at the pink lips that made such a beautiful sound.

His fingertip grazed her knees. Giving into the urge, his hands glided up her thighs. They settled on her hips as she gyrated in his lap. She sat up and stared down at him. She used his shoulders to brace herself. His usually cold gaze was heated. Hands that could easily kill her were gripping her hips. A body that had been trained to bring destruction and pain was giving her such incredible pleasure. Curses strung together with his name flowed from her lips. She threw her head back and arched her back. Her legs began to shake and tense. Her hips bucked in a wild rhythm. This was the thrill she sought. To be with him. In this way. Felt exhilarating.

"Vegeta!"

Her forehead pressed to his. Both their breathing ragged. The haze began to clear and her eyes fluttered open. His eyes were still closed and he was panting heavily. His grip on her hips was still tight. She sat up and his eyes snapped open. Their eyes met and realization of what they had just done poured over them like cold water. She unmounted herself from his lap and stood on still shaky limbs. He stared at her with wide eyes. "I have to go pee," she blurted out, "Goodnight." She turned and hurried out of the room.

Dark eyes followed her as she went but he remained unmoving. He could find no words to speak. His mind was still clouded. He didn't understand. He, Prince Vegeta, could purge whole planets single-handedly if needed. He was feared throughout the galaxy. He prided himself on his precision and control. Yet this weakling of a woman, who he could end without much effort, made him lose all his wits and control. She didn't fear him. In fact, she more often than not challenged him. She had forced her way through to him and no matter how he mentally berated himself he didn't give her much resistance. He had let her get too close. He lay back on the bed and his eyes fluttered shut. He was spent. The last thought that drifted through his mind was of the way she moaned his name.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's finally happened!!! Bulma got the skins! Hmm, I wonder how this'll go over with you know who. Thanks for reading everyone! Thanks for all the kudos, subscriptions, bookmark and comments!


	9. Pleasure Principle

When Bulma finally rolled out of bed it was well past noon and she felt reinvigorated. She made her way to the closet. Sweats and a t-shirt would do just fine, she wasn't going anywhere. It was a day of rest. Walking past the mirror, she froze. Her finger hooked in the waistband of her baggy gray sweats and pulled them down. The cut up t-shirt made crop top she had on wouldn't do. Purple bruises blemished her skin. Not the sort of hickey she was used to after a night like the last. She laughed to herself, he had quite the grip. She changed her shirt and made her way out the room. She took the elevator down to the recreation floor, sure her mother would be around there somewhere. She wasn't out on the terrace, so Bulma went to the next stop on her list. She froze in her spot as she heard soft music. Her eyes widened in shock. She was in there? Bulma walked through the archway and was bathed in natural lighting. She searched around the vast curved shape room until she spotted her mother. She scurried over to the cream-colored chaise. Her head rested against the plush cushion and she waved over at her mother. Mrs. Briefs smiled over at her and finished up.

"It's been so long since I heard you play." Bulma smiled at her mother, who sat behind in front of the wide window.

"It's been a while since I've played. Let's say a certain sour face I couldn't stand any longer gave me the inspiration to." The older woman giggled, her cheek resting on the neck of the fingerboard. Bulma snorted a chuckle, she knew the certain sour face was none other than Vegeta. The five rings on Mrs. Briefs fingers glinted in the sunlight as she started plucking at the strings of the double bass in her arms.

Bulma closed her eyes. Hearing her mother make music was always a sweet experience. Her mother's voice was in many of her childhood memories. As she got older and the tension between them grew, she had heard less of her mother's music. She sighed. She'd been such a brat. There was a pang of regret that she hadn't stuck with the guitar lessons she had practically demanded after seeing Purple Rain. A soft smile settled on her lips as she continued to listen. Her eyes fluttered open as her mother sang.

Bulma hopped off the lounge seat and started to dance. Her hips swayed and her fingers ran through her hair before her hands danced above her head. She remembered laying in the floor of her bedroom listening to the record player she got for her thirteenth birthday and dreaming of this very airy, joyous feeling as she listened to the Off The Wall album on repeat. She was in a better mood than she been in a very long time and she wouldn't help it even if she could. Laughter bubbled out of her as she fell into her mother's arms after playing the last notes of the song. She hugged her mother tightly. When was the last time she felt so carefree?  
  
"How about some lunch, BulmaB." Mrs. B giggled, placing the tall instrument back into its stand.

"Sounds like a plan, Mama."

Forking at one of the shrimps on her salad, Bulma gave her mother the run down on the project she had been working on the past couple weeks. Mrs. B nodded her head and cooed about how she was so proud of her baby girl. She was soaking it all up. Her head growing larger with each compliment. Bulma's attention was drawn to the archway of the kitchen as someone walked into the room. They locked eyes and he froze in his spot like a deer caught in headlights. She wiggled her fingers and waved at him. He frowned.

"Vegeta-chan! Would you like to join us for lunch," Mrs. Briefs waved him over.

"No," he turned and practically stomped out of the room.

The older woman brought a hand to her chest and gasped. "Oh dear. Is he okay? I hope that poor boy isn't sick."

"Don't worry, I think he'll be alright, Mama." She rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Her eyes still focused on the archway.

"It's just not like him to turn down food."

"Yea, that is strange. He's probably just eager to get back training." A sigh slipped from her lips before she took a sip of her pink lemonade. Was he going to start avoiding her again? What happened last night was unexpected she'd admit that much. She had no intentions of riding him like hell when she went to his room last night. She just thought she'd go poke some fun at him maybe they'd get into a heated debate. She knew she wanted to get into those tight training shorts of his but thought it would take a lot of handjobs and dick sucking to get there. She hadn't expected to get to home base with him but she did. It was clumsy and maybe even a little awkward but it was fire and passionate. It was thrilling and it definitely happened. She still felt the soreness in her thighs. "Oh my god," she gasped and sat up in her seat.

"Sweetie, are you alright," Mrs. Briefs jumped in surprise.

"Fine. Fine. I just-. I have to go. Thanks for lunch, Mom!" She hopped out the seat and nearly sprinted to her room. She slammed the door and started burning a trail into the floor as she paced. "B, You had sex with Vegeta. You had sex with Vegeta!" She ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck, we didn't use a condom. What if he gave me the space clap. Shit." She stopped in her tracks. "Holy shit! I had sex with an alien!" She plopped down onto her bed. Her hands cradling her head. "I need to make a doctors appointment," a chuckle broke from her lips, "You might have vegetal herpes. That's not funny, Bulma."

 

* * *

 

Pushing a bobby pin into the bun she had pulled her hair into, Bulma walked down the hall to the kitchen. Today was the day of the big presentation and press conference. Everything needed to go perfect today. The best way to start the day was a big, steaming mug of coffee because her hair sure wasn't cooperating. She pulled the bobby pin between her teeth out and pushed it into her bun. She should've hired someone to just do her hair and makeup but she would've had to get up even earlier and that just didn't sit well with her. She just wasn't a morning person. "Good Morning, Mama."

"Oh BulmaB," her mother cooed, "You look lovely this morning."

"Thanks. Today's the big day." Bulma sat at the table, still fumbling with her hair.

"It is," her mother set a mug of steaming black coffee in front of her and pressed a kiss to her daughter's temple.

"Thanks, Mom." Mrs. Briefs hummed and brushed Bulma's hands aside and began working on the wild mane of curls. Bulma sipped her coffee as her mother worked her magic. Who needed to hire someone when she had her mother.

"Have you seen Vegeta-chan?"

"I should ask you that. You're the only one that ever sees him."

"I didn't see him at all yesterday then he hasn't come down for breakfast yet. He's usually up by now. I hope he really hasn't gotten sick."

Bulma's brows drew together. So not only was he avoiding her but he was just going to isolate himself completely. She heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll check on him when I come back," she assured her mother. The revelation did give rise to a bit of anger. She pushed the thought away. There were bigger things to worry about at the moment other than a stupid jerk.

 

* * *

 

Bulma balled up her fist and banged on the door of the gravity room. "Vegeta! Open up the door, you big jerk." Mrs. Briefs had sent her because apparently Prince Knucklehead had locked himself away in GR not even taking the food she had left outside the door for him. "Open the goddamn door, Vegeta!" She bammed and banged with both fists. "Don't make me have to override the system!" That would be so unnecessary but she would do it. She was just petty enough to shut down the whole gravity room to get one over on his candy ass. There was a loud bang on the door from the other side.

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

"No!"

"Fuck off!"

Her freshly manicured nails dug into the skin of her palms and she shook with rage. "Me? Fuck off? You fuck off! I swear Vegeta I will shut this bitch all the way off!" Her arms flailed about as she screamed. The response she got was simply silence and that only fueled her rage. "So you're just going to ignore me! Alright." She stormed off down the corridor.

Mumbling threats under breath, she stomped out of the elevator. "Oh Sweetheart," Dr. Briefs smiled as his daughter walked past yet she was so enraged she didn't even noticed him. "Bulma," he called again. She spun around and her expression softened a bit.

"Oh, hey Daddy."

"What's got you all worked up, My Dear?" He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of the pocket in his lab coat. He offered her one and she took it. Just what she needed. Nicotine.

"Vegeta." She took a puff after he lit it for her.

"I see," he hummed, "and what are you going to do about that?"

"Shut down the GR."

"Why would you do that?"

"He's holed himself up in there and then when I went to get him out he got all pissy and so now I'm shutting him down. That'll teach him," she huffed and turned her nose up.

Dr. Briefs took a slow drag from his cigarette and shook his head. "He's quite dedicated." Bulma snorted and rolled her eyes. "I know someone else who will lock themselves away to their work and gets sassy when interrupted." He chuckled.

"Don't compare me to him." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"It was just an observation, Bulma. Interpret it as you'd like. Though I do think you're getting worked up over nothing."

"Fine," she huffed getting what he was trying to say. He always said she had a tendency to overreact and blow up when things didn't go how she wanted it to. "I won't shut it down but when he comes out of there. I'm giving him a piece of my mind."

"Very well, Dear. Besides, I think we have some celebrating to do." A bright smile blossomed on Bulma's face. She wouldn't let that jerk rain on her parade. Today was her day.

 

* * *

 

Bulma made her way down the corridor to her bedroom. Dinner was amazing. She ate and drank her fill and even more than that with dessert. She felt light and warm. She clutched the 25 count bouquet of roses to her chest and felt as if she were walking on clouds. She stopped in front of her door but stared down the hall. That asshole was probably in there by now. She pushed open her door and threw the bouquet into the room. She had a bone to pick with a certain royal asswipe. Fire and alcohol pumped through her veins. Her vision overlayed in red. She stomped in front of the door and started pounding on it.

"Vegeta! I know you're in there!" She would keep knocking on the door until he came. She would stay there all night if need be. "Open up the damn door before I open it myself!" The door swung open and she nearly toppled over. She righted herself and schooled her features into a glare. She was met with a glare of equal disdain. "What's the deal, Short Shit!"

"Why can't you leave me the fuck alone," he growled in annoyance.

"Because Mama's all in a fuss because she thinks you're sick but you're just avoiding me and it's pissing me off!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a heavy sigh. "Great Oozaru, the bitch is drunk."

"That's Ms.-, no Dr. Bitch to you," she shoved a finger into his chest, "and I'm not drunk! Yea, I had a couple of Sex With Satans but only because that just seems to be the theme of my life right now!" She threw her hands up in the air. His impassive mask only serving to fuel her rage. "We had sex, Vegeta! You can't deny it, ok! I rocked your world. I knocked those cute, gold toed boots of yours! Now stop being weird and avoiding me like the plague. It's not like I'm asking for your hand in marriage. Geez." Her hand shoot out to shove him back by that big ass forehead. Before her fingertips could even reach skin, he caught her wrist.

"Don't touch me," he hissed through gritted. She rolled her eyes and pulled away from his grasp. She knew the only reason she got her hand back was because he allowed it but that didn't stop her from turning up her nose before storming back down to her room.

* * *

 

Groaning and holding her head, Bulma trudged into the kitchen the next morning. Her head was pounding. Yesterday's celebration was catching up to her or maybe it was the stress finally taking root. Either way, she needed food. "Mommy," she whined, "I have a headache."

"Oh no, Sweetie. Take a seat and I'll fix you up something in a jiffy," Mrs.Briefs cooed and stood from the table.

"Avocado, cheddar and tomato omelette please," Bulma sat at the table and rested her head on her arms.

"Tch, spoiled brat."

Bulma looked up to see Vegeta looking down at her with a sneer on his face. She flipped him the bird and huffed. "Well look who's come out of their cave." He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his plate. She shook her head before resting it again and a smirk played at her lips.

 

* * *

 

The heady and warm aroma of Jasmine and sweet smell of vanilla filled the room. The only light came from the flickering flame of candles. A sigh slipped from pink lips, as Bulma sunk down further into the warm bath. Milk and honey, the bath soak fit for queens.Things had finally settled down enough for Bulma to fully indulge in a long bath with all the luxuries. At the office, there was just the matter of distribution but now she had normal hours again. Reaching out, she turned the volume on the radio up a bit. "My mind's telling me no, but my body! My body's telling me yes!" She lifted a leg and exfoliated with a sugar scrub. "This song is my life," she chuckled and lifted the other leg. Even he had settled down. Things had gone back to whatever normal was nowadays. He wasn't avoiding her anymore. He didn't even rush out when they were in the same room. They had even fallen back into their quirky banter and heated debates.

Slender fingers trailed down long legs and she inhaled deeply. The sensually rich jasmine filled her senses and she sighed out a moan. It was time. It was past due, in all honesty. She rose from the bath and grabbed her fluffy pink towel. After towel drying and lotioning up, she dressed in a black satin slip. Starting out the bathroom, she slipped her arms through the draped sleeves of her black haori styled robe. Strolling over to the vanity, her fingers combed through her curls. The mirror said she looked hot. She turned around and grab a handful and smacked her own ass because she felt hot.

She started down the hallway and stopped in front of the last door. Her knuckles rapped lightly on the door. She slowly opened it and peeked her head into the dark room. "Vegeta, are you still awake?" As if to answer her, he sat up in the bed. She crept inside and sat beside him. "Hey." She could just make out the features on his face. He was frowning as usual.

He reached over and turned the lamp on the nightstand on. It gave the room a soft glow. "What do you want?"

"I came to see you."

"Well obviously," he rolled his eyes.

"Vegeta," she playfully whined, "don't be like that."

"Fine, I'll humor whatever idiotic scheme you're on to," he huffed, "Hello Bulmoose. You are ever so welcomed to disturb my rest."

"Shutup." It was her turn to roll her eyes. She lightly smacked his chest.

He looked down to where she had "hit" him then back up to meet her gaze. "That tickled."

"Asshole," she laughed and lay back against the headboard making herself comfortable. Her slip barely reached the middle of her thigh and rode up as she moved. A smirk tugged at her lips as she saw his gaze wonder before he caught himself.

"Don't you have any decent clothing?"

"Why would I wear decent clothing," she leaned into him and pulled the knot of her robe a loose, "when this is what I came for?" His breathing hitched and jaw clenched. She let the robe drape down her shoulders. "Ve-Ge-Ta. Can I have a kiss?"

She leaned in for the kiss and his body moved on its own meeting her halfway. He knew what was to come when she pulled the straps of her slip down. He shouldn't. He should push her off his bed and kick her out but he couldn't muster the want to. He had smelt her desire before she even walked into the room. He knew what was going to happen yet he let her guide his hands to her breast. He knew she would bring him pleasure beyond compare. He was used to pain. It's all he knew. He was hellbound yet she had given him a taste of heaven. It was only logical, instinctual in fact, to embrace pleasure rather than welcome pain. He couldn't afford to indulge himself in her, yet he couldn't stop the groans that rumbled up from deep in his chest. He couldn't help the bliss he felt as she worshiped his body. He couldn't halt the rapture he was caught up in feeling her body wrapped in his arms and pressed against his chest as they moved together in rhythm. He couldn't keep the waves of pride that rolled through him as she moaned his name in check. He couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt panting with her resting on his chest, spent in orgasmic bliss.

Rolling onto her back, fingers ran though blue hair. "Shit," she sighed. He was really coming around. She looked over to him. "Vegeta, that was...damn." His eyes were closed and his breath was just as ragged as her's. She lifted onto her hands to get a better view of him, her legs folded beneath her. "Ve-Ge-Ta!" She giggled. He opened his eyes and glared at her. His relaxed expression morphed into a scowl.

"Woman," he rasped and sat up, "What are your intentions?"

She dumbly blinked at the harshness in his tone but shook her stun and leaned into him. "I thought I made that clear." She bit her lip and smiled.

"What are you after? Are you trying to learn my weaknesses? Are you trying to weaken me?" He had witnessed Radditz mostly, but even Nappa once or twice had fallen victim to wiles of women. They'd seduce the idiots and steal everything they had on their person. He knew the bothersome woman had no need to pickpocket since it was her that was providing for him. There was still plenty she could be up to. She was a conniving little bitch, after all.

"Are you serious, Vegeta! After what we just did! We just had a good...fuckin fantastic moment and you want to ruin it by thinking I'm trying to steal your secrets. Can't you ever just have something! Not everyone is out to get you damnit!" She huffed. She couldn't stand to look at him at the moment. Her gaze drifted everywhere around the room but him as she shook her head in disbelief.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I want to be! I want to be here with you!" When she turned to look at him. His head was tilted and his eyes narrowed in confusion. As if he couldn't possibly figure out why she would want to be with him.

"Doesn't this go against some silly moral you humans are so fond of?"

"What premarital sex? I guess but you see I've just got all this love to give," she smirked and looked to him. That wasn't what he was referring to. "Or do you mean sex with you because you're a villainous ruffneck bastard. I suppose it could be a conflict of morals but morals are _so_ gray and blurry. Besides, it's not like you're the only one in this bed with blood on their hands." She ran a hand through her hair and looked to him. She cautiously reached out as if she were trying to pet a wild animal. She took his face into her hands and stared into the deep voids of his eyes. "I'm not out to hurt you, Vegeta. What would I get out of that? I'm not trying to steal your secrets and give them to Goku or whatever it is you'll come up with. I think you're hot," she giggled, "That smart ass mouth and big ass forehead really turns me on. I'm not asking for a relationship or anything. It's just sex. Besides, it's obvious you could use a little tenderness and even the Prince of all Saiyan could use someone to talk to every now and then."

Her fingers were a bit callused from working with her hands for so long but her touch was warm and gentle. The fire in her eyes warmed something deep in his gut. What was she doing to him? Trying to make him soft. He pulled away from her and stood to his feet. Marching over to the closet, he riffled through and threw on a hoodie and some sweats over his shorts.

"Leave me alone," he opened the window and flew out.

Bulma watched in a daze as he flew into the dark sky. She pulled her robe back on and tied it tightly around herself. Heaving a heavy sigh, she plopped back down onto the cushy mattress and pillows.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading again! Welp there goes Vegeta lol


	10. Darling Bulma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware she's schemin', she'll make you think you're dreamin'  
> you'll fall in love and you'll be screamin', demon.

Bulma stomped out the elevator and down the corridor to the lab. If anyone dared to get close enough they'd hear her muttering and mumbling. She punched her access code into the keypad with a little more force than needed then continued her storm over to her desk. She plopped down into the chair and it slid back a bit. "Fine," she huffed, turning on her computer. Finding out Vegeta hadn't come back to Capsule Corp. that morning really ground her gears. If he wanted to be like that, fine. She didn't care. She didn't need the distraction. She'd just focus on work. "I mean really," she murmured, "What's his deal!" Her fingers blazed across her keyboard. They had a good night. That time had been even better than the first time. He was more into it. The way he moved with her. They were so in sync. The way he peered into her eyes as they moved together. Heat flared through her gut. She shivered but straightened herself. "Damn it," she slammed a fist down on her desk.

Pushing away from her desk, her hands needed to be at work and she needed to be covered in grime and oil by the end of the day. Her brain was obviously not up to the task today. She opened her locker and exchanged her lab coat for her coveralls. She put her Taitans rally cap on and flipped the brim up. The locker door slammed shut. Bulma threw the strap of her toolbox over her shoulder and set out to spend her day working her fingers to the bone.

* * *

The blossoming heat of the early June morning pulled away his blanket of unconsciousness. His finger dug into the dry soil. His eyes slowly opened to the golden rays shooting out from the horizon. His back rested against the rough sedimentary rock of the plateau he had created last night. His empty stomach churned. He rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders. It had been a while since he was on the hunt.

Vegeta chomped, ripping the meat from the bone of the antlered animal he hunted down. It wasn't as good as Mrs. Briefs' cooking but he had grown too customed to the luxury. He didn't need such things, it would only make him soft. He'd eat then find somewhere to bathe. The smell of the woman and what they'd done assaulted his nose and fueled his shame. Damn her.

The Saiyan crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his index finger to his bicep. The frown on his face deepened. He could still smell her. He had bathed and yet her scent was still fresh in his mind. He had even blasted some mountains and caused some wreckage for fun and yet here he was with her on the mind. He heaved a heavy sigh and extended the tapping finger. A shot of ki stemmed from his finger zapping a lizard some distance away. Moving target, 100 points. That didn't help. He could still smell her. He could still remember her touch. Warmth jolted through his gut. He had never had this problem before. No one had ever invaded his senses, piqued his interest or ignited his desire. Sex was never a big deal. He saw no reason to pursue such things. He was the perfect soldier with no need for it. He had gone through Saiyan maturity and woken up with soiled underwear, but it was just a biological response. He never had the desire to seek out such things. He never found anyone worth seeking such things from. He never let anyone close enough to desire. His only desire was to become stronger. Strong enough to free himself. Strong enough to bring glory back to the Saiyan race. He put forth all of his efforts into that one goal. It was what drove him. It was what kept him alive. It was his escape. While they all found solace in violence, Nappa and Raditz also found their escape in sex. He thought it was a waste of time. A waste of energy. Shameful.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. Now, of course, he saw the pleasures of sex. Orgasms, definitely worth the energy. Having someone leave themselves so vulnerable to you. He could have crushed her and yet she never shied away. The pride that he felt knowing he was the reason for her pleasure. His hand dragged down his face. His head hurt. His views were obviously skewed and he was more than confused on which stance to take on the subject. It was to be expected. His first encounter with sex being on his first purge mission under Frieza's tutelage. Him, being the youngest there got stuck disposing of the bodies. What he had witnessed wasn't a pleasant sight and nothing a young boy should see no matter how much of a hardened soldier. Then there was Raditz. He'd fuck anything with a pulse. Saiyanoid or not. Gender be damn. Vegeta had pummeled him on more than one occasion because of the vice effecting training or missions. Then there was when he had come of age and it was "time for the prince to become a man". Nappa and Raditz thought it would be a good idea to lock him in the room with a prostitute. "Idiots," Vegeta spat. That night hadn't ended well for anyone. The biggest deterrent was probably the lizard bastard. He extended his hand and shot a ki beam. Lunch.

* * *

 He wished he had brought that pocket change Mrs. Briefs was always giving him, just in case she always said. Just in case was now and he'd left it behind it in his haste. He could always go find a human that would be so kind as to give him some or he could just go take whatever it was he wanted, but he didn't feel like interacting with any of the weaklings. He took another bite out of the charred meat of the animal he had struck down earlier. He could really go for some steak and those little octopus balls Mrs. B made. Takoyaki, that's what she called it. The backwoods mudball was shit but the weaklings did food right. He'd been out on his own for at least a week now and he was tired of eating ki charred meat. That was always the part of missions he hated. It just couldn't satisfy a Saiyan's appetite. How could a Saiyan grow if they were malnourished. He always thought it probably stunted his growth. Of course, genetics didn't help him any either. His mother had been a tiny powerhouse. He huffed. He wanted to eat. A feast fit for the Saiyan Prince. He knew of only one place he'd get that.

He cracked the leg bone and sucked the marrow out. Damn, he was going back to that stupid looking yellow dome. But the woman. "Fuck her," he spat. Why couldn't she just leave him be, let him train in peace. That was the reason for him being there. They provide the equipment for him to train and he'd take out the tin cans when they came. Then why couldn't he block her out of his mind. He took a deep breath. He wanted it. He was at a loss. He threw the bones away and crossed his arms over his chest. What was it about her? He lost all reason around her. She tried to invaded the sanctum he had built; attempted to knock down the wall he had put between himself and everyone else. She was constantly telling him to relax or just let go, urging him to let his guard down. Not everyone is out to get you, she tried to convince him. He never had the luxury to even think such things. He was groomed to be the perfect soldier. A born warrior. Any sort of lax tendency got you killed or hoping to be killed. There was no room to let guards down under Frieza's tutelage. There were no friends and no one did anything out of kindness. There was intent behind every action. He wouldn't fall victim to anyone's intention of his downfall. He trusted no one. In all honesty, not even Nappa or Raditz had his trust. Frieza's high expectations and the consequences when those expectations weren't met were wrought into him early on. He had been stripped of his destiny and birthright. Humiliated time and time again in front of Frieza's force. His own father had sold him out to the lizard bastard, so why should he trust some stupid Earth woman. Why should he believe that this woman wasn't out to get him as she claimed, she was conniving and controlling. She just wanted to hold some power over him.

He huffed and looked up to the sky. It had grown dark. Earth days and nights were so short. His gaze drifted to the moon. If you ever find yourself lost, look to the moon. The moon will always guide you, my son. He closed his eyes and whispered the ancient Saiyan prayer together with the warm, strong voice in his memories. The voice of possibly the only person he had ever trusted. She was the only woman he ever had many dealings with and he figured that's why the blue-haired woman perplexed him so. Sleep was evading him now. That was nothing new. He had nothing to do but to wonder what it was about her that drew him to her.

She had been on Namek but his only focus was on the dragon balls. He had wondered what such a trembling weakling was doing there. He had the passing thought of how ridiculous her hair color was but could see how other's might find it aesthetically pleasing. Then they ended up on Earth and the brash, vulgar woman finally appeared. On her home turf, she was no longer a quivering mess of fear. He began to realize she had guts. Who else would talk to him the way she did? Bit by bit. Wicked smile by smile, he began to respect her. She had a fire in her that caught fire to something in him. She had a presence reminiscent of memories he buried long ago. She drew him in and evoked respect. She was a challenge. One that he wouldn't run from. That's it. He'd overcome her challenge. Conquer her. Indulge himself. Once he built up enough resistance to her wiles and took back his reason, he could move on and focus on his training. Then he would be able to obtain the power of the legendary.

* * *

120 words per minutes. That was Bulma's personal best typing speed but she was probably far below that at the moment. Far too distracted singing along with the songs on the radio and not entirely focused on the itinerary she was working on that needed to be done for tomorrow. She should've been done at least an hour ago. She snapped her fingers and rocked to the song. She picked her pen up and scribbled some notes in her notepad. "Quit breaking my heart," she sang off key into the pen as she swiveled around and plucked a paper from the pile. She started typing down the content of the paper. Every since she had shown the slightest interest in Capsule Corp., she'd been groomed to take over one day. She had been put on research teams usually being the youngest there. She had learned how macro and micro manage early on and she'd be doing a lot of it soon. She was prepared. It was just what she needed. She sang into her pen, not caring if she screeched and couldn't hold a single note. She clicked save then print and pushed away from her desk. She hopped out of her seat without even waiting for it to stop rolling.

She took the elevator up to the second floor. She stopped at the kitchen to get her nightly glass of wine before settling in one of the cushy, white armchairs in the set arranged around the television. Her mother was curled up on the couch, jaw jacking on the phone. The nightly news came back on after the commercials. She nursed her glass of wine and watched some story about some kitten. She had lost interest and was more focus on her wine until her mother gasped. The report on the screen was at the scene of a closed road. There had been an unexpected, unexplainable landslide shutting down the whole road. Bulma chugged down the last of her wine.

"Fuckin' Vegeta," she groaned and stood from her seat. She couldn't escape the asshole. Her glass left to be washed and she headed to her room.

 

* * *

 

The elevator dinged and the door swooshed open. Vegeta stepped out of the elevator to take care of the first order of business, a decent meal. A groan rumbled deep in his throat as he heard the soft hum of music down the hall. One of the humans were up and he'd have to interact. Bracing himself, he walked in and saw no one. He huffed and turned to head to the refrigerator but stopped in his tracks. He frowned and could feel his cheeks heat. Black stockings ran up long shapely legs as the woman bent over in front of the wine fridge underneath the counter. She stood and turned around to face him, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. He shouldn't be seeing this.

"Oh, Vegeta-kun! I was so worried," Mrs. Briefs cooed. She shuffled over to him and set the bottle of wine on the counter before giving him a thorough inspection. "Well, um, I'm glad you're back in one piece."

"Hn." How could she try to hold a conversation with him in nothing but that black and floral print bodysuit. Such shamelessness. That's most definitely where Bulma got it from.

Her nose scrunched up. "I picked you up some new clothes so they're there for you after you bathe. There's leftovers in the fridge, so eat then get a nice shower. I'm sure you're exhausted from your outing."

"Hn." His hands dug further into the pocket of his hoodie.

"Well, I'll be on my way." She picked up the bottle of wine and two glasses she had set out. "Have a goodnight, Vegeta sweetie. I know I sure will. Be ready for a big breakfast in the morning" She winked and sauntered out of the kitchen, humming something about sexual healing. Vegeta's frown deepened with each clack of Mrs. Briefs' stilettos's on the marble floor. Vulgar Briefs women. Just what exactly had he gotten himself into. He yanked the refrigerator door open in search of his leftovers.

 

He stopped outside the door. Her door. He could sense her meager ki inside and hear her loud music. He clenched his jaw and slowly opened the door. He had never seen the inside of her room but wasn't surprised to see it was messy. There were clothes scattered about the floor. Hair rollers, magazines and an overfilled ashtray sprawled along the side of the bed. Stacks of papers and books everywhere. He stepped inside and the woman was so enthralled in whatever it was she doing at her desk she hadn't noticed him. He shut the door loud enough to get her attention. Her head snapped up and in his direction. Her eyes widened then narrowed and his brow arched in anticipation of what she'd do.

"Well look who it is." She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" He walked around the vast room along the mint colored wall. He studied the firearms that hung on the wall. Then glanced over at the hoverbike propped up on a jack. "So you're not going to answer me?" He looked over at her and gave a noncommittal shrug. "So you just fly off somewhere and come back like it's nothing."

He walked over to her work desk. "Needed some fresh air." He smirked. She glared at him and the fire in her eyes made that lightning feeling shoot through his gut.

"You're such an ass!"

He rolled his eyes. That really hurt. He bent over her shoulder to watch her. "What are you doing?" She set a slender, spiral bristled brush down then re-assembled her pistol.

"Just cleaning my baby." She held up the gun. A smirk crept upon her lips as she aimed it directly in between his eyes. "9mm semiautomatic. 15 rounds with a built in silencer." A wicked gleam in her eyes. "Boom. Your brains all of the floor and no one would even hear." His brow rose. "Of course not you, though. You Saiyans are built to last." Her smile morphed into a playful one. "If you fuck with V, he'll put a foot in your ass," she said rhythmically. "It's a song," she explained at his perplexed look. She laughed a little as he went and sat on her bed across the room. Swiveling around in her chair to face him, Bulma crossed her arms over her chest. "So why are you here?"

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius," He smirked.

"Keyword genius, not mind reader." She rose from her seat and sauntered over to the bed. She stepped in between his legs and stood there with her hands on her hips. His hair was a bit damp and the pattern of his hair more defined. The jumpman logo across his chest let her know he had found the new clothes her mother had bought for him. She angled her head to the side and stared down at him. He grabbed her by the hips.

"Oh no." She shook her head and pushed at his shoulder, "Excuse me, Mr. Man but Bulma Briefs does not take too kindly to being left alone in a bed watching you fly off to who knows where."

"Damn it, Woman." He pulled her to him.

A smirk crept to her lips "Had a rough trip? I saw the aftermath of your little tantrum on the news."

He chuckled. "Did you like it? I thought the landslide was a nice touch."

"Asshole." She shook her head. "You can't do stuff like that."

He grunted in response then rested his forehead on her stomach. "Woman."

"You're not going to roll out of bed and jump out the window this time, are you?"

"No."

"Alright then." She took his head into her hands. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to his lips. Her fingers working through the kinks and coils of his hair as the kiss deepened, damp and soft to her fingers. She climbed into his lap. He closed his eyes and hissed as her tongue trailed down his neck then nipped at his collarbone. He could feel the upturn of her lips against his skin. "You're not going to make me do all the work again, are you?"

"Shutup," he lifted her into his arms and rolled her over onto her back. Vegeta pulled at the back of his shirt until it was off and over his head.

Her fingers explored curiously, trying to memorize and analyze. For all intents and purposes, he had the body of the god he believed himself to be. She could feel his muscles tremble under her touch. His skin warmer than a human's and marred with scars. "You sexy motherfucker." She looked up at him to see that cocky smirk on his lips. Her heartbeat started to race, pumping fire throughout her body. She needed to feel his skin on her's and the stupid night shirt was in her way. She scrambled and struggled with her nightshirt, only getting it off with Vegeta's help.

"Why don't you ever have undergarments on," he teased, leaning into her like a predator on the hunt.

Her hand ran up his spine stopping at the nape of his neck as she leaned in to meet him halfway. He was just as much her prey. She whispered, "I don't ever wear panties."

"Vulgar woman," he chuckled. He felt that was somehow false advertising, or at the very least irony. She pulled him down crashing her lips into his. "Woman," he pulled back, "I don't want a child."

"Neither do I," she smirked then scurried up the bed. She leaned over and opened the drawer on the nightstand and dug around. Her frustration growing as her hand fumbled around. "Here we go," she held up a square foil packet.

"What is that?" He quirked a brow upward.

"Think of it as battle armor for your dick. No baby. No space clap, though when I went to the doctor it was all clear, so I don't think we have to worry about that." She tugged at his shorts until they were down past that bubble butt that she had been wanting to sink her nails into. He frowned but kicked the shorts off and onto the floor.

"This prevents pregnancy?" He squinted.

"Yea, plus I'm on the pill. This is just to be sure that we're sure. No baby!" She smirked rolling the latex down his length. "Alright, all set." She pressed a kiss to his lips. "Wait." She drew back. "Do you even know what you're doing."

He frowned and glared down at her. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"It's obvious you don't have much experience at this, so I just was wondering."

"Shutup the fuck up." The wicked smirk on her lips only fueled his need to meet her challenge. Damn demon woman.

"This is what you want, right?" She looks up at him and she couldn't deny he was beautiful. Her eyes tracing along his strong jaw to his full lips to high cheek bones. She searched his eyes as they met, such a deep, dark smoldering brown. He nodded his response. "Then take it."

Resting his weight on his elbows before he tested the warmth that drew he back into bed with her. Her fist pounded into his back and she hissed in his ear to stop teasing her, to put his fucking back into it. He snorted a chuckle and closed his eyes. Always barking out orders and this was no different. He didn't need to see her, just feel her. He rested his head on his shoulder. The softness of her body against his hardened muscle. Her warmth, she was warm like the red skies he could remember of Vegetasei. She panted his name like the old war chants he could no longer remember the words to but the cadences were still fresh in his mind. Just for once, he let go. He allowed himself to feel uninhibited.

* * *

 Vegeta winced at the shrill squeal of his name as he entered the kitchen. He was much too exhausted for this. Mrs. Briefs scurried over to him and he scowled. "Oh Vegeta-kun, you seem tired. Were you up late?"

"Hn." His eyes strayed away to anywhere else around the room. Her daughter made sure he got no sleep the night before.

"Come, come. I'll fix you up some coffee just the way you like." She turned and headed off into the kitchen and he took a seat at the kitchen island. He positioned his chin in his palm and rested his tired eyes. The clink of the coffee mug against the marble top drew his eyes back open. He picked up the mug and inhaled. The steam warmed his skin. He gulped some down then took a deep breath to calm his annoyance. She was staring. Why must they always stare. He set a glare at the older woman.

'What."

"You seem well." She smiled then went about getting breakfast started.

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. He felt well. Sitting back in his seat, he relaxed and drank his coffee. Just this once. It's not like the blonde woman could harm him in any way or would for that matter. She was wrapped around his finger.

 

Bulma bit her lip and sighed through a smile as she lay in bed recollecting the night before. She could still smell him on her sheets. She could still feel the fire of his kiss. She giggled like a giddy teenage girl. Finally opening her eyes to the new day, she clutched a pillow to her chest. Half of her still couldn't believe that he had come to her, especially after he blew up and disappeared the last time. Yet she couldn't deny the soreness in her muscles that came from a thorough fucking. Rolling out of her bed, she felt like she could take on anything. Even whatever the Prince of all Assholes had to throw at her today because there would surely be something.

Trotting down the stairs, she made her way into the kitchen with a little extra pep in her step. Her mother hummed a tune and she could smell the preparation of breakfast. "Need help Mama?" Her mother turned to her a surprised expression on her face.

"Sure, Bulma dear. Vegeta's back so that calls for a big breakfast."

Bulma turned and looked over at the Saiyan seated at the island. "Oh," a mischievous smirk crept upon her lips, "Good Morning, Vegeta. How are you feeling today?" He huffed and glared at her. She giggled and then turned back to her mother.

Mrs. Briefs slide two cartons down the counter to her daughter, "Could you crack these eggs for me. You can manage that right?"

Vegeta couldn't help but snort out a chuckle. The woman probably couldn't manage that. She turned and glared at him. "Don't gawk at me, Woman. Focus on your task. I don't like eating egg shells," he smirked.

"Yes, dear focus," Mrs. Briefs chimed in. Bulma huffed and opened the carton and spared her mother a glance as Vegeta's named had rolled a little too easily off the tongue and was sang a little too sweetly earlier. She turned to a cabinet and fished out a bowl. "You must have gotten a good night rest to wake up on the good side of the bed this morning," the older woman cooed

"I guess," she shrugged and spared a glance over her shoulder then started cracking the eggs into the bowl.

"It's been so long since we've done this. You were just a little girl and now you're a woman cooking breakfast for your own man."

"What," Bulma squawked. She could faintly hear Vegeta choking on coffee behind her.

"You two have gotten over your little spat, right?" Mrs. Briefs turned to look at Vegeta.

The stool he sat in screeched as he pushed it back and left without another word. Nope. He wasn't doing this. Time to train.

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "He's such a cute, odd young man. Well since our company is gone, why don't you spill?"

"Mama, please! We didn't even-"

"Don't you lie to me, Bulma. I know a morning after glow when I see one. When I saw him last night he looked worse for wear but when came down to my kitchen this morning he had the refreshed glow that only a Briefs woman can give you."

"Ok, ok. Yea, I slept with Vegeta."

"I knew it," she squealed, "It was only a matter of time." Bulma couldn't help but laugh a little. She had always had a very open relationship with her mother. They were more friends than mother and daughter. "So," her mother urged, "I'm a married woman, so I have to live vicariously through you, my dear."

"Mama," she rolled her eyes.

"What BulmaB! A handsome man with a physique like that." She lifted a hand to fan herself. "What a man. If only I were a few years younger."

"As if that would stop you," Bulma couldn't help but laugh.

"Bulma, you're so silly. I do have to keep appearances up," her mother tee-heed "Come on now we've got mouths to feed." Mrs. Briefs turned back to fixing breakfast.

Bulma nodded and started back to crack the eggs. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. "Mama, you know," she started and sighed. "It's not like that."

"What's not like what, Dear?"

"Vegeta and I. It's not really like that."

"Like what?"

"Well, we're not dating. It's nothing serious, just sex. I don't want you making him uncomfortable, thinking that it's something it's not."

"Of course, Dear." Bulma huffed. Her mother probably didn't get it at all. One ear and out the other with that woman.

 

Bulma sat on the counter and watched her mother at work. B. B. Homemaker, as she had nicknamed her long ago, was really working wonders. Her mother had tasked her with simple, menial work like cracking eggs and starting the rice cooker; not really trusting her with her other tasks. Bulma was just fine with that, she knew her strengths and weakness and cooking definitely a weakness. Last time she tried to cook, she had managed to overcook the rice, the meat was dry and underseasoned and her side dishes wouldn't even come out the pan. Bulma looked over her shoulder as someone walked into the room. Of course, it was the ever punctual Saiyan Prince.

"Bulma, will you be a dear and take this over to Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs held out a plate piled with rice omelettes all with Vegeta's name written in red. How did that woman do it?

Any other time she would make an indignant riposte about how he could come get it himself but she was feeling generous this fine morning. She spun around to get the plate with a playful pirouette, the ballet classes she took as a kid weren't too bad. "Here you go, Your Highness," she set the plate in front of Vegeta as he had sat down at the table ready for second breakfast then gave a brisk bow. If she had been paying attention she would've heard her mother tittering behind her.

"Hn," he didn't even put effort into keeping the smirk off his face.

"Enjoying your morning," she settled beside him.

"Satisfactory."

"Well, I'm more than satisfied, if you were wondering," She giggled a little as he snorted a chuckle. Her attention was drawn to the entrance as her father entered and kissed her mother good morning. "Good morning daddy," she beamed as he sat across from her. She could see Vegeta shaking his head from the corner of her eyes. She'd take a guess and say he was thinking something along the lines of "shameless woman".

"Ah, Vegeta. I see you're back. How was your trip?"

He nodded in greeting, "Productive."

"Very good."

"Good morning everyone!"

Vegeta looked at the newcomers and groaned. "What's he doing here," he nodded his head towards Yamcha and Puar as they made their way to the table.

"I live here." Yamcha rolled his eyes as he pulled a chair out. Vegeta furrowed his brows and looked to Bulma. She nodded. He looked to Mrs. Briefs because Bulma would lie about it as a joke.

Mrs. Briefs nodded. "Yamcha's returned from his trip too."

"Ugh great, now the place will reek of weakling," Vegeta groaned.

"Don't be like that Vegeta." Bulma shook her head.

"Tch." he glared at Yamcha then turned to his plate deciding the weakling wasn't worth the energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta can't tell you what she did but he knows he body will never be the same lmaoo. If you hadn't noticed ever chapter is named after or inspired by a song and Darling Nikki is very fitting for Bulma lol.
> 
> I wanna thank you all so much for reading and your comments. You guys are great!!


	11. Everybody Loves the Sunshine

Vegeta had gotten used to her humming and soft singing in the morning. She usually listened to music as she fixed breakfast. It was either a slower song about love making or something more up tempo and she'd dance to it. This morning's tune was one of the former. She swayed her hips and softly sang along to some song about the reason for making love were all just lies. Humans. Most times he'd just ignore her and eat his food. The woman was so damn eccentric. That was another thing her daughter had inherited. He nodded as she set a cup of steaming coffee in front of him and took her seat across the table from him with her own.

"Lalala," she quietly sang then blew into her coffee. She took a sip then hummed. "Vegeta-kun," she set her cup down. He raised a brow to let her know she had his attention. "My hunny and I's anniversary is coming up and I just wanted to let you know that to celebrate we decided to go on a two-week getaway."

His brows furrowed. He set his mug down and glared at her. "Pan-," he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Damnit Panchy. Who will feed me? We all know the woman couldn't cook to save her life." He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The betrayal.

"You can order in. I'll leave some money behind."

"You're leaving me here with her."

"I thought it'd be fine. You two will have some privacy." Mrs. B. smiled behind her mug. The heart of the issue. "I mean if I had a handsome, young man like you around with a house all to myself I just wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you." She giggled as that ever present blush worked its way to her cheeks.

He groaned. That's what he was worried about. The woman was a feen. Insatiable. Cornering him in hallways and sneaking into his bedroom. Vulgar Briefs women. They had to be the descendants of some ancient succubus clan because he swore the woman sucked the living energy out of him and went on to have the most productive day. He didn't much mind but he could only imagine how she'd be with the already little restrictions removed. "When do you leave?

"Tomorrow."

"Damnit Paunchy," he growled. These would be a long 2 weeks.

The cotton was soft to his skin as he dabbed the sweat away from his brow. He had been up before the sun had even rose, pushing himself to his limit and trying to forget everything outside of his training. That meant the bothersome women and being stuck with one for two whole weeks. He needed fuel to keep his energy up so that he could keep pushing his limits. Which lead him to the kitchen. His eyes focused at the kitchen island. His brows drew together and a frown marred his features. "What's Kakkabrat doing here," he huffed. The woman turned to face him and rolled her big bug eyes.

"Gohan," she stressed the named, "is here studying because he's not going to be all brawn and no brain like the rest of you idiots."

"I have plenty of brains, Woman. Don't confuse me with that third class idiot, Kakkarot."

"Yea whatever," she huffed and turned back around, "Vegetables and Carrots."

"Hello Mr. Vegeta," Gohan waved from beside Bulma.

Vegeta nodded at the boy in acknowledgment. He walked over to the island and leaned onto the white marble across from the study bugs. Books and papers were sprawled out in front of them. Pencils, highlighters and eraser remnants were amongst the books. A platter of sandwiches cut into triangles and a pitcher of lemonade also sat on the marble top, courtesy of B. B. Homemaker. He stole a sandwich from the platter and looked down at the books. How old was this kid and doing biochemistry? How was this brat Kakkarott's offspring? Then again from what he'd seen and heard, Kakarot wasn't very involved in the brat's life, probably for the best. The twerp was studying subjects beyond his age. The brat had his respect. Once he had been handed over to Frieza, Vegeta's formal education had ended. He was no dummy though, far from it. He had taken care not to be. When he wasn't wrecking havoc or training, his nose was in a book. Not biochemistry, of course, he had no interest in the sciences. He enjoyed reading things that honed the strategic mind. He studied tactics and strategy. Everything to become a better warrior.

Vegeta's attention was drawn from what the fuck is a dichloro cyclopentane to the little, infernal beeping black box attached to the woman's hip. A beeper is what she called it. He rolled his eyes as she jumped out of her high stool, muttering an "I have to take this" as she walked into the next room. He could hear her in the living room speaking in another language. He snorted a chuckle at how nasally she sounded. His eye twitched at the niggling of annoyance. The kid was staring. They always stare. "What brat!"

The boy's eyes widen and his cheeks reddened. "I-I just thought that you looked well, Mr. Vegeta." Gohan was very perspective. He might've been quiet but it was with reason. He sat back and noticed everything and Vegeta seemed much different since his last encounter with him. His face seemed fuller, his complexion took on a healthy glow and he even seemed to be in better moods.

"Do your work twerp," Vegeta flicked Gohan's forehead. A smirk on his lips as he took the platter of sandwiches and pitcher of lemonade with him to eat before getting back to his training.

"Where are you going with those sandwiches, Short Shit! I step away for five seconds to take care of business and you're taking food out of little Gohan's mouth!"

"The boy didn't want them. Leave me be."

"Gohan!"

"Yes, Ms. Bulma?"

"You don't want the sandwiches?"

"I-I'm fine." The boy grew flustered getting caught between their bickering.

"See Woman," Vegeta smirked.

"Asshole," she huffed and started back towards the island. "Don't mind him, Gohan. He's just a big grouch." The boy nodded but a tiny smile found its way to his lips. He was glad that they were getting along so well.

* * *

 

Vegeta rested his arm on the wall in the hallway and his forehead pressed against the forearm. He could almost feel the power of the legendary. A satisfied smirked on his lips at the thought and euphoria he felt from pushing himself to his limits. That smirk dropped altogether at the screech that reverberated off the corridor walls. A groan rose from his chest as the grating sound got louder. "You look like shit," she spoke and he could just see the sneer on her face. He lifted his head to glare at her but the sneer he imagined morphed into shock. Her eyes widened and mouth agape.

"You're bleeding!"

"It's nothing but a scratch. I'm fine," he waved his arm.

"Blood is streaming down your face! You need to get that cleaned." She pulled at his elbow, attempting to drag him. She was too used to barking out orders and the humans jumping to follow them.

"I said I'm fine!"

"You missed dinner but you still can't go to the kitchen like that! Mama will pass out from worry. Geez, just let me take you to the infirmary and patch you up, Asshole." He scoffed, you'd think that was his name as much as she called him that.

"Will you shutup."

"Maybe, and I could do that thing you like later if you shutup and get your booboos kissed like a good boy." She winked. He rolled his eyes and followed if only to shut her up, nothing to do with the vulgar things she suggested.

So he sat in the infirmary with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown marring his features as the demon stormed through the cabinets in search of things to treat his wounds. She dumped her haul onto the bed and pulled a chair up to sit in front of him. He reached for the wet towel in her hand because he was the prince of all Saiyans and warriors don't need to be coddled. She slapped his wrist and held the towel away from his reach. "Shutup and just sit there, Knucklehead," she huffed. He rolled his eyes. Who the fuck died and made her queen? He glared at her as she worked diligently. Queen? He looked away and forced the thought away before he could dwell on it. "You need to take better care of yourself. You're going to kill yourself before the androids even get here at this rate."

"Shutup."

"No! I will not and you know what else?" She grabbed his hand and examining his bruised and battered knuckles, "It's okay to let someone take care of you once in a while." He sighed as she started to wrap his hand. He'd just have to sit through her lectures.

He peeked out from the crook of his arm feeling the weight of the bed shift. They ended up in bed with her after she lectured him about to taking care of his body, probably only so she could use it. It had become a routine as of lately. A smirk tugged at his lips watching her nearly fall over on wobbly legs. She caught herself on the bed before standing again. She swiped her clothes up from the floor, not bothering to put them on. He quirked a brow, watching her tilt her head in contemplation before dropping the clothes back down on the floor. She started towards the en suite bathroom. He studied her gait in the warm, dim light as she strolled into the bathroom. The scar on her shoulder blade, the stretchmarks that ran like lightning from her rear up and around her hips, the dimples in her thighs. She was comfortable in her skin. She held no inhibitions about walking around in the nude. She never blushed when she whispered those vulgar things into his ear. She was free. She knew her worth and she hadn't been afraid to tell him, "You should feel lucky. I could have anyone I want but I'm here with your grouchy ass." He rather liked it. The challenge she presented him with. With her, he was simultaneously the predator and the prey. She was worthy of the effort. The light from the bathroom seeped into the room as the door opened. It quickly flicked off as she strolled back into the room. He watched her as she made her way back to the bed and climb in. "I don't want to go back to my room." She stole a pillow away and laid her head down and pressed her back into his side.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep. I suggest you do so too. You have to train tomorrow." Her eyes fluttered close. He glared at her back. She was always making herself comfortable in other people's space. He huffed and closed his eyes, it wasn't worth the energy to fuss with her. He closed his eyes to fall into slumber with her warmth pressed against his side.

And when he opened his eyes again she was still there. The duvet bundled under her like a nest, an arm thrown over his chest, and a leg hooked over his. The muscle under his eye twitched, noticing how she managed to take up all of the bed. He was never doing this again, he thought as she snored in his ear.

"Woman," he sent an elbow into her side. She jolted awake with a loud snore.

"What the hell," she looked around in a daze. She blinked as her eyes try to focus in the dark. "What time is it?" She looked out the window and it was still dark out.

"Get off of me," he huffed and she sat up. He turned away from her and could feel her lay back down. Her arm wrapped around his waist and her chin atop his head. It was at times like this that he hated their height difference. "Get off me."

"You're so warm," she murmured. He groaned and pulled her arms from around his waist before sitting up. "Aw, grumpy butt doesn't like to cuddle," she giggled. He rolled his eyes, feeling the weight shift on the mattress. Her arms wrapped around him and her chin rested on his shoulder. "Have you ever been in a relationship?"

"Why would I," he frowned, "I have no need for such things."

"Figured that." He could feel her head shake. "I dunno it's just nice to have someone.Y'know to hold" He arms tightened around him. "to touch." Her hands trailed from his sides up to his chest. "to kiss." she pressed a kiss to his neck before settling her chin in the crook of it. "It's no correlation but I was wondering. Before me, were you a virgin?"

"A what?"

"A virgin, someone who's never had sex before."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and let out a groan from somewhere deep down in his chest. "You're so fucking annoying." He sighed at the soft giggle in his ear and the warm kiss on his neck. "Don't." She tried to kiss his lips.

"Why not."

"You haven't even brushed your teeth, filthy woman," he smirked.

"Asshole," she smacked his shoulder. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder. " No Lie I always look forward to this throughout the day," she mewled then plopped back on the bed, releasing him from her hold. She watched as he rose to his feet and damn she loved the view.

* * *

 

Bulma awkwardly fixed her lips around the straw as to not mess up her ruby woo lipstick. Slender fingers pushed her hair off her neck. It was just too hot to have this much hair. She was seriously considering cutting it all off again. She sighed, walking through the atrium into the garden. She had been cooped up in the lab all morning and most of the afternoon but she hadn't made much progress. Which is why a slushie break was in order. Plopping down onto one of the stone benches, she huffed a bit before sipping more of her frozen beverage. A myriad of colors surround her, pinks, reds, yellows and purples. The smell of newly blossomed flowers filled her senses bringing back memories of childhood summers. When she would run around the garden chasing animals. A smile crept onto her lips. Things had been so simple then. She sighed and looked out at the awe-inspiring garden. It had never been that to her though, it was always just the garden. She had grown up around the amazing. She grew up in domesticated paradise. The only life she'd ever known was the sweet life. So it was no small wonder she went out searching for adventure. "That's why now you're fucking an alien," she thought to herself and snorted a laugh.

"What are you laughing about, Woman?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Frantically looking around, she hopped up from the bench swiveling around to find the voice of the exact alien she's been fucking. Finally spotting him behind a bushel of dahlias. She stomped over to him, hand on the hip and slushie in the other. Staring down at him as he lay basking in the sun, his head rested on his hands. "Don't scare me like that, Vegeta." She sipped her drink then pursed her lips.

"It's not my fault you aren't aware of your surroundings." He smirked.

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "What are you doing? Sunbathing?" He shrugged. "Not much sun in space?" She chuckled and sat beside him. He snorted and shook his head. She leaned back and rested her weight on her free hand. She glanced over at him and couldn't help but to stop and study. His face had filled out since his arrival on Earth. His brows while never completely relaxed weren't furrowed together. The sun shone down on him bringing out the bronze undertone of his skin. "If you lay like that out her too long you're gonna get sunburned."

He opened his eyes and cocked his head to the side. "Woman, don't tell me that you're really so weak that you burn from the sun?"

"I'm delicate!"

"Weak."

"I'm not weak! You don't get sun burn?"

"No."

"I can't help it that I have beautiful fair skin."

"What's so beautiful about it," he snorted then smirked, "You turn all sorts of different colors. Mostly red. When you're mad. When you're embarrassed. When you're screaming my-"

"Shutup." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm just saying. You, humans, place too much value on aesthetics."

"Whatever, Vegeta," she rolled her eyes.

"You're red. Are you burning?"

"And you're getting darker!"

He held his hand up and examined it. He had gotten a few shades darker while staying on Earth. "Thank Great Oozaru." His gaze drifted over to her. "You say it as though that wasn't my intention. Most Saiyans tend to have darker skin," he smirked. His eyes focused back on the deeper, warm brown of his hand. His mother's hands had been much darker. He remembered them fixing the weak points in his stance and teaching him ki control. A frown marred his features. He didn't have much of her as far as looks were concerned. "What's that?"

The curiosity of learning more about the Saiyan people was piqued but Bulma had no time to prod more out of him before he spoke again changing the subject. He looked over to Bulma sipping on her drink with drawn brows. "Oh, are you done teasing me?"

"What is that," He grabbed at the drink in her hand.

"You can't have any." She pulled away, giggling.

"It's not my fault you're pasty. You should take it up with the old man. He's obviously where you get the burning skin," he smirked and reached for her hand. Leaning over her, he pulled her arm closer and stole a long swig from her drink. His brows furrowed together and he winced.

"Did you get a brain freeze," she laughed, "that's what you get."

"Shutup," he grunted.

"Ha Ha that's what you get, jerk," she teased, "you could've just asked for a taste." She lifted up and pecked his lips.

"I did." She just pressed another kiss to his lips. Her leg kicked over to the other side, straddling him. "Woman," he frowned.

"We're the only ones in here," she whispered into his ear which earned her a growl from deep in his throat. She just couldn't help herself around him. Whenever she was close to him she just felt this burning desire. It was probably some sort of ego trip paired with his sheer sexiness but every time she was alone him she just wanted to jump his bone and jump his bones she would. Starting today they had a full two weeks to christen just about everywhere she could think of. First place was right here in the garden amongst the flowers.

* * *

 

The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky a gradient from orange to purple and the clouds pink. Light sprinkled the city as the sky darkened. No matter all the wonders she's seen, she'd always love looking out at West City. She could never get tired of its beauty. "Don't play dumb, B." She searched for a good french fry amongst the last of them. "Bulma." She sighed and gave her attention to the man in front of her. This was going to be such fun. She ate the last soft fry she could find.

"I could never play dumb, Yamcha." She smirked.

"Then just admit it."

"Admit what, Yamcha," she toyed.

"I know your tricks and games, B. I see you making goo-goo eyes at him! Have you been...intimate with him?" He turned several shades of red from just saying that.

She sighed and downed the last of her beer. This was one time she couldn't lie to him. He deserved to know if he was going to be around until his baseball training camp started. "Yea, I'm sleeping with him."

Yamcha cradled his head in hands. "Him. It could've been anyone but him," his voice cracked. "The sad thing is I don't have to worry that he forced you into it or something because knowing you it was probably your idea." He ran a hand through his hair and looked up to her. "For how-. When?"

Her eyes widened in sudden realization of what the sadness in his eyes translated to. "Yamcha, I swear it wasn't when we were still sleeping together. It's just been recent. I wouldn't do that to you."

"But you'd still do this," he spat and sat back in his seat. "Bulma, you could've chosen anyone but you chose him. You could have anyone, man, woman, in between, anyone that you want but you chose him."

She shrugged and giggled that high pitched, nervous giggle she did. "He's got a fat ass. I mean have you seen that thing in those training shorts."

He snorted a chuckled and rested his cheek in his palm. That was just like her. "I don't know if I should feel sorry for the guy or not. I mean you're a wild one once you set your eyes on something. Dang it, if we wanted to beat him we should've just sent you in to suck him dry."

"Shutup!" She threw a crispy fry across the table at him. She rolled her eyes and huffed but when she looked across the table to his sullen expression her stomach twisted and knotted. "Yamcha," she reached across the table and laid her hand on his, "I never meant to hurt you. I wasn't really thinking of the consequences." She really hadn't. There always were consequences but she was Bulma Briefs; genius, playgirl, philanthropist, billionaire, adventure extraordinaire. She didn't have to face consequences they were always fixed for her. She wasn't exactly sure how to fix the hurt in his eyes. She wasn't ashamed, nor did she regret it. She was lonely and he helped fill the void they all had left in her life. It was easy to tell her what she could've done when he wasn't there. She had been left behind and all that she had been left with was him.

"I'm fine, B. It's whatever," he huffed, "I just hope you know what you're doing."

She really didn't know, but that was the adventure, right? "Alright," she forced a smile. "I never meant to cause you any sorrow." He looked up to her with wide eyes. "I never meant cause you any pain." She dramatically looked out over the balcony railing. "I only wanted one time to see you laughing."

"No," Yamcha pulled his hand back.

"Only want to see you laughing in the purple rain," Bulma snapped her head back in his direction.

"You're the worst," he laughed, effectively lightening the mood. She couldn't help but laugh a bit too. She missed this. She missed him. She missed laughing with him and just being silly. She was happy that they still were able to maintain a friendship after all that perspired between them. She was afraid she'd lose him. Lose the bond they shared and tarnished the memories they made. He was one of her best friends. He worked her last nerves but he was still Yamcha. Sweet, adorable, innocent Yamcha. Her mother always said he was such a sweet boy and to take care not to hurt him. It used to irk her last nerve to hear it but now she could see the truth in it. "I get it. You're playing into your Prince kink. Short guy, wears heels, big hair," he chuckled and she chucked another fried to a crisp french fry at him. "Alright, alright. I accept that he's stronger than me, but my junks bigger though, right? I mean we all know he's compensating for something," Yamcha laughed.

"I think it's a Saiyan thing," she laughed, "I mean we've all seen Goku's." She definitely missed this. She'd savor this because soon he'd be gone again too.

* * *

 

He combed a hand through his hair, finger detangling his still damp locks. The bottle crumbled in his other hand as he sucked the last drops of water out. He tossed the empty bottle into the trash then started out of the kitchen. A groan rumbled up his chest as he heard the television blaring and the woman screaming. Walking through the entertainment room, he stopped and stared. The woman and the weakling stood at the center of the room. The two stepped away from each other, stepped together then kicked. They joined hands and linked their feet together then spun in a circle. "Ugh." A frown settled on Vegeta's lips. He had been clinging to her too frequently since his return from his "training journey". The weakling would need more than that and here he was laughing it up with the woman. That stupid grin on his face was irking Vegeta's nerves. "Perhaps if you spent more time training than dancing around you'd at least stand a chance of staying alive against the tin cans." He crossed his arms and smirked. That was a good one.

"Eh! Don't be such a spoil sport Vegeta!" Bulma placed her hands on her hips with the weakling glaring beside her. He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Come watch the game with us, we have food," she sweetly sang. He glared as he walked around to the other side of the u-shaped sectional and plopped down with a huff. "There ya go," she passed him a bag of potato chips. He snatched the bag and munched away as the woman explained the game of weaklings trying to prove their strength by running and tossing a ball down a field. Humans. "I'll be right back. Too much to drink." She hopped up from her seat.

Vegeta glared at the weakling as the woman left. Why was he even here? Just the sight of him being here annoyed Vegeta. Dancing around with the woman. Tch, wimp. He balled up the empty bag of chips. He leaned forward and noticed how Yamcha jumped. Vegeta glared at him as he reached out and Yamcha physically stiffened. His breathing caught as Vegeta's hand drew nearer. "Boo!" Yamcha cried out in fright, nearly jumping out of his skin. He clutched his chest with ragged breaths.

"Fuck," Yamcha bit out as he noticed Vegeta sit back in his seat with a pizza box in hand. He was reaching for the pizza box. Vegeta was fucking with him the whole time. He frowned in annoyance as Vegeta burst into laughter at his expense. He stormed towards the hallway.

Vegeta couldn't help it. Laughter bubbled up and out. His stomach muscles clenched and tears pricked at his eyes. His laughter grew louder hearing Bulma asking Yamcha what's wrong and him yelling about how much he hated him. He couldn't stop the laughter as the woman walked back in with a perplexed look on her face. When was the last he laughed this hard? Maybe the time Radditz nearly got killed and robbed of everything including the clothes off his back by that one six-eyed stripper.

"What did you do?"

"I did nothing," he smiled, calming his laughter.

Bulma quirked a brow upward. Yea, right. Did nothing her foot. She shook her head watching him laugh. She had never seen him laugh or smile the way he was now. Of course, he would have an asshole's sense of humor. She decided she liked his smile. She stood in front of him with her hands on her hips and he smiled up at her. It was contagious. "Don't be mean to Yamcha," she smiled down at him and flicked his big 'ol forehead.

"I make no promises," he reached for her hips.

"Asshole." The only response she received was a smirk. He caught her by the hips and pulled her down into his lap. Nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck he mumbled, "Mine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally was able to get the chapter at least somewhat decent. I've had this chapter written for so long but just couldn't get it to flow right. When I wrote this chapter Prince was still alive!!! but I finally managed to get inspired enough to work with it until it flowed better. Thank you to everyone that's stuck around and to the new readers as well.


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